University  of  California. 


<y  c. 


L  E  C  T  U 


YOUNG     MEN, 


BT  WILLIAM  G.   ELIOT,  JK. 


OTIVERSIT7 


ELEVEN 


BOSTON: 
AMERICAN    UNITARIAN    ASSOCIATION. 

1882. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1868,  bj 

CROSBY,  NICHOLS,  AND  COMPANY, 
in  the  Clerk's  Offi««  -tf  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetfc 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTORY  LECTURE. 

PAGE 

AN    APPEAL 5 


LECTURE  II. 
SELF-EDUCATION       .  .  .  .  .  .30 

LECTURE  III. 
LEISURE    TIME 57 

LECTURE  IV. 

TRANSGRESSION 86 

LECTURE  V. 

THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM 128 

LECTURE  VI. 
RELIGION          .......       159 


UNIVERSITY 


INTRODUCTORY   LECTURE. 


AN    APPEAL. 

"  I  have  written  unto  you,  young  men,  because  ye  are  strong,  and  the 
word  of  God  abideth  in  you,  and  ye  have  overcome  the  wicked  one.  Lo\e 
not  the  world,  neither  the  things  that  are  in  the  world.  If  any  man  love 
the  world,  the  love  of  the  Father  is  not  in  him.  For  all  that  is  in  the 
world,  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  and  the  lust  of  the  eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life, 
Is  not  of  the  Father,  but  is  of  the  world.  And  the  world  passeth  away, 
the  lust  thereof:  but  he  that  doeth  the  will  of  God  abideth  for  ever. 
Uohnii.  14-17. 


life, 

,  and     \ 
."  — 


I  PROPOSE,  as  already  announced,  to  give 
several  discourses  to  young  men,  addressed  to 
them  as  a  distinct  class  in  the  community  and 
as  individuals.  For  such  an  undertaking  we 
have  the  authority  and  example  of  an  Apostle, 
who,  m  the  words  of  my  text,  addresses  his 
exhortations  to  young  men,  with  a  degree  of 
solemnity  that  shows  the  importance  attached 
to  this  part  of  his  preaching.  He  repeats  the 
same  words  twice,  and  with  increasing  em- 
phasis: "I  write  unto  you,  young  men,  be- 


6  AN    APPEAL. 

cause  ye  have  overcome  the  wicked  one"; 
and  again,  "I  have  written  unto  you,  young 
men,  because  ye  are  strong,  and  the  word  of 
God  abideth  in  you,  and  ye  have  overcome 
the  wicked  one." 

This  apostolical  example  we  would  follow ; 
this  Scriptural  authority  we  would  use.  I  de- 
sire to  address  the  young  men  of  this  society, 
and  all  those  who  are  willing  to  hear  me,  in 
the  woids  of  soberness  and  truth.  Under 
different  circumstances  and  with  a  feebler 
tongue;  but  with  a  purpose  I  trust  equally 
true,  and  with  a  work  to  be  accomplished,  not 
less  important  than  that  which  the  Apostles 
themselves  were  sent  to  accomplish.  For 
their  work  was  to  speak  in  Christ's  stead,  per- 
suading men  to  be  reconciled  to  God;  and  the 
same  work  is  committed  to  every  minister  of 
Christ,  at  the  present  day.  They  may  do  it 
badly;  they  may  work  as  hirelings,  and  not  as 
faithful  shepherds;  but  their  work,  whether 
done  or  neglected,  is  the  same. 

The  circumstances,  however,  under  which 
the  Apostle  spoke  are  very  different  from  our 


AN   APPEAL.  7 

own.  He  addressed  those  only  who  were 
members  of  the  Church  of  Christ,  who  had 
already  made  a  good  profession  and  proved 
their  sincerity  by  lives  of  obedience.  For  he 
says,  "  I  have  written  unto  you,  young  men, 
because  ye  are  strong  " ;  that  is,  strong  in  the 
Lord  and  in  the  power  of  his  might,  "and  the 
word  of  God  abideth  in  you,  and  ye  have 
overcome  the  wicked  one."  In  that  day  there 
were  very  few  nominal  Christians.  Those 
who  bore  the  name  of  Christ  were  also  com- 
pelled to  bear  his  cross.  They  who  came  to 
hear  Christian  preaching  carried  their  lives  in  I 
their  hands,  and  the  young  men  of  a  Christian  j 
society  were  an  army  of  self-devoted  followers 
of  Him,  under  whose  standard  they  were  en- 
listed. I  wish  that  it  were  so  now.  The  out- 
ward danger  is  past,  but  I  wish  that  the  self- 
devotion  could  continue. 

Unhappily  for  the  Christian  cause,  it  is  not 
so.  Of  all  the  young  men  in  this  city,  who 
were  educated  by  Christian  parents,  and  who 
in  common  language  would  call  themselves 
Christians,  not  one  tenth  have  a  full  right  to 


8  AN    APPEAL. 

that  name-,  not  one  tenth  have  so  much  as 
professed  their  faith  in  Christ.  How  small  a 
number  can  be  said  to  have  a  well-founded 
hope  in  him  !  In  this  society,  there  are  prob- 
ably two  or  three  hundred  young  men  ;  I  mean 
that  there  is  at  least  that  number  who  make 
this  their  usual  place  of  worship,  when  they 
attend  church  at  all.  How  small  a  part  of 
them  take  their  place  at  the  comrnunion-table 
of  Christ!  or,  to  apply  a  more  general  test, 
how  small  a  part  of  them  can  be  said  to  haV3 
had  a  personal  religious  experience ! 

The  majority  of  young  men  are  unfixed  in 
^  their  religious  opinions,  irresolute  in  their  re- 
ligious purposes,  irregular  in  their  religious 
duties.  Many  of  them  are  unsettled  in  their 
principles  of  conduct  and  have  no  fixed  plan 
of  life.  They  are  floating  upon  the  surface  of 
society,  carried  one  way  or  the  other  by  the 
currents  of  social  influence,  by  the  changing 
wind  of  good  or  ill  success.  They  are  not 
strong;  the  word  of  God  does  not  yet  abide 
in  them  ;  they  have  not  overcome  the  wicked 
one.  They  are  trusting,  it  would  seem,  to  the 


AN    APPEAL. 


natural  progress  of  things  for  their  salvation, 
instead  of  working  it  out  with  fear  and  trem-/ 
bling. 

Young  men !  I  speak  seriously  and  earnest 
ly,  but  do  I  not  speak  truly?  I  would  not 
bring  an  unjust  charge,  but  I  fear  that  there  is 
something  radically  wrong,  which  needs  to  be 
corrected.  The  wrong  may  be  in  the  speaker, 
more  than  the  hearer ;  in  the  minister,  more 
than  in  the  people ;  for  surely  if  religion  were 
presented,  as  it  ought  to  be,  in  its  simplicity 
and  power,  there  would  not  be  so  many  of  the 
young  who  turn  away  from  it,  with  indiffer- 
ence or  contempt.  Our  churches  ought  to  be 
filled  with  young  men.  Our  communion-table 
should  be  crowded  with  them ;  our  Sunday 
school,  our  ministry  to  the  poor,  our  Christian 
missions,  and  every  religious  enterprise,  should 
be  made  prosperous  by  their  cooperation ;  and 
this  would  be  the  case,  if  the  Gospel  of  Christ 
were  brought  home  to  their  hearts  as  it  ought 
to  be.  That  it  is  not  done,  is  undoubtedly  the 
fault  of  those  to  whom  the  dispensation  of  the 
Gospel  is  committed.  If  the  truth  could  be 


10  AN    APPEAL. 

preached  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  surely  the  young 
would  hear  it.  Would  to  God  that  I  could 
now  speak  so  that  every  one  who  hears  me 
would  feel  rebuked  for  his  sinfulness,  and  go 
from  this  house  with  his  heart  full  of  that  infi- 
nite question,  "  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved?" 

This  is  ray  reason  for  speaking  so  plainly; 
for  in  plainness  of  speech  is  my  only  hope  -of 
success.  This  is  the  cause  of  my  anxiety; 
for  while  there  are  so  many  young  men  who 
show  their  confidence  in  me  by  making  this 
the  place  of  their  worship,  but  to  whom  it  is 
not  made  the  savor  of  life  unto  life,  there  is 
reason  to  fear  that  my  own  duty  is  but  imper- 
fectly performed. 

Do  not  understand  me,  however,  as  saying 
or  thinking  that  the  salvation  of  my  hearers 
depends  upon  me.  I  abhor  that  arrogance  of 
the  priestly  office,  by  which  such  claims  are 
made,  as  though  the  minister,  the  servant  of 
Christ,  were  the  mediator  between  God  and 
man.  Nor  can  we  excuse  the  worldly-minded 
and  indifferent,  as  though  they  could  plead, 
before  the  bar  of  God,  the  dulness  or  ineffi- 


AN   APPEAL.  11 

ciency  of  their  religious  teachers,  in  palliation 
of  their  sins.  No :  your  souls  are,  under  God, 
in  your  own  keeping.  With  the  Bible  in  your 
hands,  you  have  no  sufficient  excuse  for  igno- 
rance, nor  worldliness,  nor  sin.  With  God's 
instructors  all  around  you,  and  in  your  own 
hearts,  you  cannot  plead  the  want  of  faithful 
teachers.  With  a  mother's  blessing  resting 
upon  your  head,  and  the  recollection  of  a 
mother's  words  rising  unbidden  in  your  hearts, 
you  cannot  plead  the  want  of  motive  to  lead 
a  pure  and  religious  life. 

The  ultimate  responsibility,  therefore,  must 
rest  with  yourselves,  even  with  each  one  of 
you.  Nevertheless,  when  we  look  around  \, 
upon  the  multitude  of  young  men  with  whom 
this  city  is  filled,  and  the  evil  influences  to 
which  they  are  exposed ;  when  we  see  how 
large  a  part  of  them  are  walking  in  the  broad 
but  dangerous  road  that  leads  to  destruction, 
and  how  few,  comparatively,  are  even  seeking 
for  the  way  of  eternal  life,  we  cannot  help 
feeling  that  every  one  who  occupies  a  Chris- 
tian pulpit  has  a  duty  to  fulfil  towards  thenij 


12  AN    APPEAL. 

which  has  not  yet  been  perfectly  accom- 
f  plished. 

It  would  be  unjust  to  say  that  the  young 
men  of  St.  Louis,  compared  with  those  of 
other  cities,  are  below  the  general  standard. 
I  have  no  sufficient  means  for  making  such  a 
comparison,  but  think  that,  if  it  were  fairly 
made,  the  judgment  would  not  be  against  us. 
The  average  degree  of  morality  and  of  respect 
for  religion  is  perhaps  a*s  high  here  as  else- 
where. When  all  the  circumstances  are  con- 
sidered, it  is  higher  than  could  have  been  rea- 
sonably expected ;  but  no  one  will  deny  that 
there  is  great  room  for  improvement.  The 
standard  even  of  common  morality  among  our 
young  men  is  not  so  high  as  it  ought  to  be, 
and  religion  is  too  little  regarded.  We  need 
some  new  element  at  work  among  them  ;  we 
need  some  stronger  influence  to  counteract  the 
worldly  and  irreligious  influences  by  which 
they  are  surrounded. 

Look  at  their  numbers.  A  gray-haired  man 
is  but  now  and  then  seen  among  us.  See  how 
early  they  enter  upon  the  active  duties  of  life. 


AN    APPEAL. 


13 


At  the  age  of  fifteen  or  sixteen,  they  are  found 
in  their  places  of  business  doing  their  part,  and 
before  ten  years  are  past,  they  have  become 
the  merchants  and  enterprising  men  of  the 
city.  Take  away  from  our  city  the  young 
men,  and  how  little  would  be  left  of  all  its 
present  vigor  and  enterprise !  There  is  no 
city  of  the  world,  probably,  in  which  young 
men  occupy  a  more  important  position ;  none 
in  which  a  greater  responsibility,  for  good  or 
evil,  rests  upon  them.  Do  they  feel  this  as 
they  ought?  Do  they  understand  the  great- 
ness of  their  work,  and  the  importance  of 
doing  it  well  and  quickly  ? 

It  is  perceived  in  part,  but  not  as  it  ought 
to  be.  There  are  some  who  feel  it,  but  there 
are  still  more  who  think  only  of  the  fortune 
they  have  come  to  seek,  and  of  the  pleasures 
they  pursue.  The  cause  of  religion  and  of 
morality,  the  moral  interests  of  society,  the 
progress  of  truth  and  goodness,  give  them  no 
concern.  If  they  can  obtain  the  means  of 
living,  and  have  enough  to  spare  for  their 
amusements,  their  work  is  accomplished  :  and 


14  AN   APPEAL. 

in  the  choice  of  their  amusements  they  are 
guided,  not  by  their  sense  of  what  is  right  and 
wrong,  but  by  considerations  of  convenience 
and  of  custom.  What  others  do,  they  will 
do ;  where  others  go,  they  will  go.  The  de 
gree  of  decency  or  respectability  required  b\ 
the  circle  in  which  they  move,  they  will  try  to 
attain,  and  if  they  do  not  sink  much  below  it, 
they  are  content.  Thus  evil  customs  prevail 
more  and  more ;  thus  the  tendency  with  so 
many  is  continually  downwards.  Thus  it 
happens,  that  hundreds  of  those  who  come 
here  with  general  intentions  of  living  a  good 
life,  breathe  an  impure  atmosphere  and  be- 
come morally  tainted  from  the  very  first. 
Thus  it  is,  that  so  many  run  a  rapid  career, 
through  frivolity  and  self-indulgence  and  sin, 
ending  in  contempt  and  ruin. 

Go  through  our  city  from  one  end  to  the 
other,  through  its  principal  streets  and  sub 
urbs,  on  the  week-day  and  on  the  Sabbath 
We  do  not  ask  you  to  look  upon  the  low 
haunts  of  vice,  the  dens  of  vile  iniquity,  whose 
secrets  you  may  not  even  think  upon  without 


AN   APPEAL.  15 

the  stain  of  impurity;  but  look  at  the  more 
respectable  places  of  resort,  where  the  cup  of 
pleasure  is  made  to  sparkle,  and  the  appli- 
ances of  luxury  are  used  to  introduce  the  ap- 
pliances of  vice.  Look  in,  —  you  need  not 
enter,  —  look  in  upon  the  splendid  rooms  ap- 
propriated exclusively  to  tippling  and  games 
of  chance.  Consider  what  enormous  profits 
must  accrue  from  such  establishments,  and 
ask  yourselves  BY  WHOM  they  are  chiefly  sup- 
ported. I  would  speak  diffidently  upon  sub- 
jects on  which  I  am  unavoidably  to  a  great 
extent  ignorant.  We  know  that  those  doors 
are  darkened,  too  often,  by  the  forms  of  men, 
whose  proper  place  is  with  their  wives  and 
their  children,  and  even  with  their  children's 
children,  at  their  own  homes.  A  heavy  guilt 
do  they  incur,  who,  with  the  soberness  of  years 
resting  upon  them  and  the  serious  duties  of 
mature  life  to  discharge,  yet  give  their  counte- 
nance to  the  dram-shop, — for  that  is  its  name 
be  it  ever  so  splendid,  —  and  their  influence 
to  the  cause  of  dissipation  and  sin.  But 
their  number  I  would  fain  believe  is  small. 


16 

If  I  may  trust  my  own  observation  and 
what  is  told  me  by  others,  the  chief  responsi- 
bility for  the  growth  of  intemperance  and 
other  forms  of  vice  among  us  rests  upon  the 
young  themselves ;  upon  young  men,  who  are 
betrayed  into  habits  which  at  first  seem  only 
foolish,  but  which  by  rapid  growth  become 
sinful,  because  they  think  that  youth  will  ex- 
cuse them,  and  that  while  young  they  have  a 
right  to  do  as  they  please.  Beginning  with 
occasional  indulgence,  feeling  that  they  are 
unobserved,  or  that  what  they  do  is  of  no  im- 
portance one  way  or  the  other,  they  gradually 
form  habits  which  place  them  among  the  op- 
ponents of  virtue  and  the  devotees  of  sin. 
Sometimes  they  stop  before  it  is  too  late,  and 
with  saddened  hearts  begin  a  life  of  sobriety 
and  usefulness.  But  even  then,  ought  they 
not  to  consider  that  they  have  been  doing  an 
•  incalculable  harm  to  the  cause  of  sound  mo- 
rality and  religion  ;  that  they  have  been  lend- 
ing their  influence  to  the  support  of  institu- 
tions which  are  the  curse  of  our  community  ? 
This  is  the  first  ground  on  which  I  would 


AN    APPEAL.  17 

appeal  to  the  young  men  of  St.  Louis;  name- 
ly, on  the  ground  of  their  social  importance  as 
a  class,  and  their  individual  influence  as  mem- 
bers of  that  class. 

In  other  cities,  the  young  man  may  plead 
his  insignificance  as  an  excuse  for  self-indul- 
gence in  those  things  which  offer  a  bad  exam- 
ple to  others.  He  may  say  that  the  institu- 
tions of  society  are  so  fixed,  that  nothing  he 
can  do  will  affect  them  ;  that  the  interests  of 
society  are  in  the  hands  of  older  persons  and 
must  be  protected  by  them.  But  here  it  is 
not  so.  Our  institutions  are  not  fixed ;  our 
standard  of  morality  is  not  established,  and  it 
is  chiefly  for  the  young  men  of  this  city  to  say 
what  it  shall  hereafter  be.  Whether  they 
know  it  or  not,  they  are  doing  a  large  part 
in  giving  direction  to  public  opinion  and  es- 
tablishing the  standard  of  public  morality. 
Taken  together,  they  are  the  strength  of  the 
city;  individually,  every  one  of  them  has  a 
part  to  perform. 

You  may  think  that  this  is  an  exaggerated 
statement ;  but  it  is  not.  The  character  of 
2 


18  AN    APPEAL. 

our  young  men  is  now,  and  for  a  long  time  to 
come  must  be,  tae  character  of  our  city.  The} 
must  settle  the  point  whether  intemperance, 
dissipation,  licentiousness,  profanity,  gam- 
bling, and  the  like,  shall  be  the  order  of  the 
day,  or,  instead  of  them,  religion,  good  order, 
sobriety,  chastity,  and  other  virtues  which  be- 
long to  the  gentleman  and  Christian.  It  is 
for  them  to  determine  what  shall  be  the  stand- 
ard of  refinement  and  education  among  us ; 
whether  we  shall  be  a  mere  money-loving 
community,  buying  and  selling  to  get  gain,  or 
a  community  in  which  it  is  necessary  for  a 
man  to  be  educated  in  order  to  be  respected, 
to  be  refined  in  order  to  be  tolerated.  It  is  for 
them  to  say  whether  literature  and  the  fine 
arts,  learning  and  science,  shall  take  firm  root 
among  us,  or  struggle  for  a  feeble  existence  as 
they  do  now.  Do  you  say  that  such  things 
properly  devolve  upon  the  older  and  wealthier 
members  of  the  community?  We  answer, 
that,  for  several  years  past,  those  of  our  older 
citizens  who  have  large  wealth  at  their  com- 
mand, have  been  giving  evidence  of  their  in- 


AN    APPEAL. 


19 


terest  in  the  welfare  of  our  city.  Some  of 
them  have  shown  great  liberality  towards  our 
infant  institutions  of  learning  and  benevo- 
lence, and  those  who  have  not  yet  done  so 
are  probably  only  waiting  for  some  opportu- 
nity of  enlarged  action.  We  beg  them  not 
to  wait  until  the  hour  of  death.  It  is  far  bet- 
ter to  give  than  to  bequeathe ;  better,  both  as 
a  service  of  God  and  as  a  benefit  to  mankind 
We  would  also  remind  you,  that  among  the 
wealthier  there  are  found  many  who  yet  be- 
long to  the  ranks  of  young  men,  or  who  are 
just  passing  into  middle  life.  It  is  to  them 
that  we  look,  and  not  in  vain,  to  become  lead- 
ers in  every  good  movement,  promoters  of  ev- 
ery good  cause.  That  they  will  respond  to  the 
call,  we  have  every  reason  to  believe.  The 
wealth  which  they  are  rapidly  accumulating 
in  our  thriving  city,  they  will  generously  use 
for  the  city's  best  advancement.  They  are  al- 
ready doing  so  and  we  trust  that  it  will 
abound  more  and  more.  To  what  nobler  use 
can  they  devote  their  growing  fortunes,  than 
to  the  furtherance  of  sound  knowledge  and 


20  AN    APPEAL. 

useful  information,  in  the  city  where  they  live 
Their  prosperity  will  deserve  respect,  their  de- 
votion to  business  will  become  a  Christian 
calling,  if,  as  they  advance  in  the  road  to 
wealth,  they  plant  the  trees  of  knowledge  and 
of  virtue  by  the  way-side  for  the  benefit  of 
those  to  come  after  them.  We  appeal  to 
them,  as  being  at  the  same  time  the  young 
men  and  the  influential  men  of  our  city.  Let 
them  deal  towards  this  community  with  a  lib- 
eral hand  and  a  large  heart,  and  they  will  find 
therein  an  exceeding  great  reward.  They  will 
find  it  in  well-deserved  respect;  in  the  feeling 
that  they  labor,  not  for  money,  but  for  human- 
ity ;  in  the  consciousness  that  by  their  pros- 
perity society  is  blessed.  I  know  that  I  speak 
to  many  such,  and  that  my  words  do  not  fall 
upon  unwilling  ears.  We  have  reason  to 
hope  that  what  they  have  done  in  time  past  is 
but  the  earnest  of  greater  works  in  the  time  to 
come. 

But  neither  from  the  older  nor  the  wealth- 
ier classes  can  the  chief  influence  come.  It 
must  chiefly  proceed  from  that  more  numer- 


AN    APPEAL.  21 

cms  d.ass,  who  are,  comparatively  speaking, 
beginners  in  life  :  who  have  but  little  to  work 
with,  except  character  and  example  ;  who 
must  do  their  part  towards  forming  the  com- 
munity aright,  by  forming  themselves  aright ; 
who  must  elevate  the  general  taste,  by  elevat- 
ing their  own  taste;  who  must  promote  good 
morals,  by  making  their  own  lives  correct; 
who  must  advance  education,  by  educating 
themselves  ;  who  must  give  a  right  direction, 
by  themselves  going  in  the  right  direction. 

This  is  the  great  thing  to  be  done,  and  this  X, 
is  what  every  one  can  do.  Do  you  ask  how  ? 
We  answer,  let  every  young  man  consider  the 
great  problem  of  life  seriously  and  with  care. 
Let  him  have  a  fixed  aim ;  a  purpose  which 
he  will  accomplish,  a  work  which  he  will  do. 
Not  the  plan  for  a  year  only ;  not  the  purpose 
which  to-morrow  will  change;  but  a  fixed 
aim,  a  life-purpose,  to  which  every  thing  shall 
be  made  to  bend,  which  every  thing  shall  be 
made  to  subserve.  We  need  not  say  a  good 
aim,  a  good  purpose.  I  defy  you  to  have  any 
other,  if  you  adopt  it  deliberately.  You  can- 


AN    APPEAL. 


not  make  up  your  mind  to  the  devotion  ol 
your  lives  to  any  mean  or  wort  Jess  pursuit, 
even  if  you  try.  You  may  do  the  thing  itself  ; 
you  may  devote  yourselves  to  mere  labor,  like 
a  beast  of  burden  ;  or  to  mere  pleasure,  like 
the  worldling;  or  to  iniquity,  as  though  you 
ioved  it  for  its  own  sake.  But  this  will  not 
be  from  a  fixed  purpose,  as  your  selected  plan 
of  life.  It  will  be  because  you  have  no  plan, 
because  you  are  putting  off  to  some  more  con- 
venient season  the  claims  of  duty  and  religion, 
Bring  yourselves  to  say,  "  This  shall  be  my  aim 
in  life;  this  is  the  whole  work  which  my 
whole  life  shall  accomplish";  and  as  surely 
as  your  soul  was  made  in  the  image  of  your 
God,  you  will  turn  your  face  heavenward. 
The  great  delusion  of  sin  is  this  :  we  persuade 
ourselves  that  for  a  few  months  or  years  we 
may  live  without  a  fixed  aim,  and  yet  go  in  no 
fixed  direction  ;  that  we  may  continue  in  cer- 
tain wrong  courses,  indulging  ourselves  in  sin- 
ful pleasures,  giving  ourselves  only  to  worldly 
pursuits,  and  that  by  and  by  we  will  begin  a 
new  course  with  a  higher  aim  in  life.  And 


AN    APPEAL.  23 

BO  we  go  onward  to  our  ruin.  For  he  who 
has  no  fixed  aim  in  a  right  direction  may  be 
sure  that  he  is  steadily  going  in  a  wrong. 
The  strong  folds  of  habit  will  gather  round 
him ;  his  moral  tastes  will  be  perverted ;  his 
influence  will  be  exerted  on  the  side  of  evil ;  J 
his  whole  life  will  become  a  failure. 

Throw  your  minds  forward  now,  if  you  can, 
and  in  imagination  place  yourselves  at  the 
closing  term  of  a  long  life.  Let  the  three- 
score years  pass  over  you,  with  all  their  varied 
cares  and  occupations,  until  the  physical  frame 
is  already  bowing  under  their  influence,  and 
the  freshness  of  life  has  gone,  and  the  account 
must,  in  the  course  of  nature,  soon  be  rendered 
in.  Sit  down  as  at  that  advanced  age,  in 
your  counting-room,  in  your  office,  or  at  your 
own  fireside,  and  let  the  former  years  pass  in 
review  before  you,  that  you  may  read  the 
record  they  are  bearing  onward  to  eternity. 
Let  memory  play  a  faithful  part,  until  the 
whole  picture  of  your  life  is  held  up  before 
your  mind's  eye. 

At  first   it  comes  indistinctly  and   in  con- 


24  AN    APPEAL. 

fused  lines,  but  gradually  more  and  more 
plain,  until  each  object  is  distinctly  seen,  and 
each  event  distinctly  remembered.  The  his- 
tory of  your  life  is  before  you,  and,  either  for 
good  or  for  evil,  you  are  compelled  to  read  it. 
With  what  different  feelings  will  it  be,  ac- 
cording to  the  manner  in  which  your  lives 
have  been  spent!  If  it  is  the  history  of  a 
childhood  full  of  promise,  in  which  fond  par- 
ents expended  the  treasures  of  love  upon  you, 
and  in  which  the  early  development  of  your 
minds  gave  earnest  of  a  vigorous  and  manly 
character,  but  from  which  you  passed  to  the 
years  of  wayward  and  undisciplined  youth  ; 
if,  as  the  history  goes  on,  it  tells  you  of  one 
who  advanced  in  years,  but  not  in  knowledge, 
—  who  was  industrious  because  he  was  com- 
pelled to  be,  to  gain  a  living,  and  whose  sur- 
plus means,  large  or  small,  were  expended  for 
idle  and  unprofitable  pleasures,  or  for  foolish 
and  sinful  indulgences ;  if  it  tells  of  one  who 
had  no  fixed  plan  of  life,  but  went  forward  as 
he  was  carried  by  the  force  of  example,  to 
which  he  submitted  himself,  even  when  he  de- 


AN    APPEAL.  25 

spised  it ;  if  it  tells  you  of  one  whose  place  in 
the  world  was  merely  to  do  a  certain  amount 
of  daily  work  and  to  be  paid  for  it,  but  whose 
influence  upon  the  real  interests  of  society  was 
either  negative  or  baneful ;  if  it  tells  you  of  a 
man  whose  name  is  not  written  with  honor 
upon  any  public  record,  or  upon  any  enter- 
prise of  usefulness  or  philanthropy ;  if,  as  you 
read  the  continued  history,  you  see  that,  so 
far  as  all  the  great  interests  of  man  are  con- 
cerned, —  education,  refinement,  art,  morality, 
religion,  —  the  man  of  whom  you  are  reading 
might  as  well  never  have  lived  at  all, — that  in 
all  these  respects  his  history  is  a  blank,  —  that 
for  all  the  real  uses  of  life  his  existence  has 
been  a  failure  and  a  mistake; — young  man! 
if  this  history  should  be  the  record  of  your  own 
life,  with  what  feelings  would  you  read  it? 
Was  it  for  no  more  than  this  that  you  were 
placed  here  ?  Are  you  satisfied  to  think  of  so 
tame  and  insignificant  a  result  of  a  life  which 
begins  with  so  many  aspiring  hopes  ?  Is  this 
to  be  the  end  of  all  your  youthful  ambition,  — 
a  record  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable,  which 


26  AN    APPEAL. 

you  yourself  are  ashamed  to  read,  and  which 
no  one  else  will  either  read  or  remember? 

Yet  I  have  spoken  of  no  crime.  The  rec- 
ord which  we  have  now  been  reading  is  not 
so  much  of  a  wicked  life,  as  of  one  passed  in 
the  common  routine  of  events,  with  nothing 
either  very  good  or  very  bad  to  mark  it.  To 
him  who  is  passing  such  a  life,  it  seems  well 
enough.  The  finger  of  scorn  is  not  pointed  at 
him ;  he  holds  a  position  comparatively  re- 
spectable ;  he  earns  his  own  living,  occasion- 
ally helps  a  friend  or  neighbor,  and  never  does 
any  thing  to  bring  absolute  disgrace  upon  his 
name.  There  are  so  many  whose  lives  are 
worse,  that  he  is  tolerably  well  satisfied  with 
himself.  But  how  meagre  and  unsatisfactory 
must  the  whole  appear,  when  it  passes  under 
that  stern  review  at  the  last !  When  the  close 
of  life  comes,  can  any  one  of  us  be  satisfied 
with  its  result,  unless  we  feel  that  in  some  re- 
spect it  has  been  a  good  thing  for  the  cause 
of  humanity  and  for  the  glory  of  God,  that 
we  have  lived  ? 

What,  then,  must  be  the  feelings  of  him, 


AN    APPEAL.  27 

who  reads  the  records  of  a  life,  not  only  worth- 
less, but  wicked  ?  if  that  too  faithful  mem- 
ory recalls  days  of  folly  and  nights  of  crime  ? 
if  dissipation,  and  revelry,  and  licentiousness, 
and  blasphemy,  and  violation  of  trust,  and 
broken  promises,  are  the  headings  of  the  chap- 
ters, as  he  reads  from  page  to  page?  Think 
of  one  who,  in  the  silent  loneliness  of  old  age, 
broods  over  recollections  such  as  these !  He 
feels  that  he  does  not  comprehend  the  depth 
to  which  he  has  fallen ;  the  light  of  eternity  is 
needed  to  reveal  that  to  him  ;  but  he  knows 
enough  to  be  covered  with  shame,  and  the  de- 
spondency of  his  heart  is  but  little  better  than 
despair.  Young  man  !  kneel  down  and  pray 
to  your  God,  that  he  may  save  you  from  such ' 
a  close  of  life  as  this !  Pray  for  early  death, 
for  poverty,  for  suffering,  for  ignominy,  rather 
than  to  be  left  in  the  darkness  of  that  sorrow. 
For  nothing  can  come  to  you  in  this  world, 
which  would  not  seem  joy  and  happiness  in 
comparison  with  this. 

And  what  difference  will  it  make,  if  such  a 
review  of  sin  comes  before  you  in  the  gilded 


AN    APPEAL. 


Hall  of  wealth,  or  under  the  destitution  of  pov- 
erty ?  Will  the  gold  adorn  the  record  itself, 
so  that  you  can  read  it  pleasantly  ?  Will  it 
become  an  illuminated  page,  because  the 
headings  of  those  fearful  chapters  are  embel- 
lished with  bright  coloring,  and  the  volume 
encased  in  costly  binding  ?  Will  "  innocence 
seduced,"  and  "  virtue  corrupted,"  and  "  relig- 
ion profaned,"  appear  less  hateful  on  that  ac- 
count ?  Or  will  they  not  seem  rather  to  be 
written  in  burning  letters  ;  illuminated  indeed, 
but  as  if  by  the  fierceness  of  fire  ?  You  may 
bribe  the  world,  and  buy  its  good  opinion,  but 
can  you  bribe  your  conscience  ?  Can  you  cir- 
cumvent your  God  ? 

Turn  away  from  so  sad  a  picture.  Let  the 
retrospect  of  our  life  come  under  what  circum- 
stances it  may,  in  riches  or  in  poverty,  in  a 
position  of  great  influence,  or  in  one  of  com- 
parative obscurity  ;  but  let  it  be  the  retrospect 
of  a  life  well  spent,  —  a  life  of  truth,  of  honor 
and  sobriety,  —  a  life  of  manly  earnestness  to 
do  whatever  we  were  able  to  remove  the  suf- 
ferings of  humanity,  to  educate  ourselves  in 


AN    APPEAL. 


29 


practical  goodness,  to  promote  the  cause  of 
morality  and  religion.  It  may  recall  no  great 
deeds  of  philanthropy,  but  if  the  chambers  of 
our  imagination  contain  no  pictures  of  guilt, — 
if  in  the  last  review  of  life  we  are  able  hon- 
estly to  say,  "  Religion  and  morality  have  not 
suffered  at  our  hands,  but  by  a  daily  good 
example,  and  by  the  faithful  use  of  whatever 
means  and  influence  we  possessed,  we  have 
done  whatever  we  could  for  God  and  for 
Christ's  sake," — then  will  the  closing  days  of 
life  be  to  us  as  the  beginning  of  heaven  ;  and 
when  the  world  begins  to  recede  from  our 
eyes,  our  hearts  will  be  filled  with  the  peace 
which  passeth  all  understanding. 

I  speak  unto  you,  therefore,  young  men, 
that  ye  may  become  strong ;  that  the  word  of 
God  may  abide  in  you,  and  that  ye  may  over- 
come the  wicked  one.  Love  not  the  world, 
neither  the  things  that  are  in  the  world.  For 
all  that  is  in  the  world,  the  lust  of  the  flesh, 
and  the  lust  of  the  eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life,  is 
not  of  the  Father,  but  is  of  the  world.  And  the 
world  passeth  away,  and  the  lust  thereof,  but 
he  that  doeth  the  will  of  God  abideth  for  ever. 


LECTURE    II. 


SELF-EDUCATION. 


u  Get  wisdom  ;  get  understanding Take  fast  hold  of  instroo* 

ticn;  let  her  not  go ;  keep  her,  for  she  is  thy  life." — Prov.  iv.  5, 13. 


MY  subject  for  this  evening  is  self-educa- 
tion. The  word  is  often  applied  to  the  acqui- 
sition of  knowledge  alone,  but  we  now  give  it 
a  more  extended  and  more  important  applica- 
tion. Not  only  the  intellect  needs  to  be  edu- 
cated, but  also  the  tastes,  the  affections,  the 
manners,  and  the  character.  There  is  diver- 
sity of  talents,  of  gifts,  and  of  opportunities. 
It  is  our  duty  to  use  those  which  we  have,  to 
the  best  advantage,  and  thereby  to  secure  their 
enlargement. 

The  majority  of  young  men  in  this  country 
are  led,  either  by  necessity  or  choice,  to  entei 
upon  the  active  duties  of  life  with  an  imper- 
fect education,  and  comparatively  unformed 


SELF-EDUCATION.  31 

in  character.  In  older  countries  a  greater  de- 
gree of  development  is  required  in  advance; 
but  in  this  new  and  vigorous  land,  it  is  enough 
if  one  is  able  to  do  the  task  which  immedi- 
ately devolves  upon  him.  He  is  then  set  to  t 
work,  and  is  very  often  kept  so  constantly  em- 
ployed, that  it  requires  a  good  deal  of  resolu- 
tion to  find  either  time  or  inclination  for  any 
thing  else.  |  There  is  a  strong  temptation  to 
give  up  the  leisure  time  which  comes,  either 
to  natural  indolence  or  to  frivolous  amuse- 
ment. If  the  temptation  is  yielded  to,  the  re- 
sult is  constant  deterioration  of  character; 
and,  instead  of  educating  himself,  the  young 
man  is  soon  diverted  from  the  best  purposes 
of  life,  and  brought  under  influences  which  for- 
bid either  his  moral  or  intellectual  elevation. 

The  great  fault  of  the  young  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, as -we  have  already  said,  is  the 
want  of  a  fixed  aim,  and  of  resolution  in  keep 
ing  it.  There  is  a  want  also  of  self-reliance 
They  too  readily  yield  their  own  principles  and 
purposes  to  those  around  them,  and  instead 
of  forming  themselves  after  the  model  which 


32  SELF-EDUCATION. 

^they  held  before  them  at  first,  they  suffei 
themselves  to  be  formed  by  others.  It  is  here 
that  the  importance  of  self-education  is  seen. 

The  young  should  begin  with  a  standard  of 
excellence  before  them,  to  which  they  should 
resolutely  conform  themselves.  There  should 
be  a  fixed  determination  to  make  the  best  of 
one's  self,  in  whatever  circumstances  we  are 
placed/  Let  the  young  man  determine,  that 
whatever  he  undertakes,  he  will  do  well ;  that 
he  will  make  himself  master  of  the  business 
upon  which  he  enters,  and  always  prepare  f 
himself  for  advancement  by  becoming  worthy_J 
of  it.  It  is  not  opportunity  of  rising  which  is 
wanting,  so  often  as  the  ability  to  rise.  It  is 
not  the  patronage  of  friends  and  the  outward 
helps  of  fortune,  to  which  the  prominent  men 
of  our  country  owe  their  elevation,  either  in 
wealth  or  influence,  so  much  as  to  their  own 
vigorous  and  steady  exertions.  We  hear  a 
great  many  complaints,  both  among  young 
men  and  old,  of  the  favoritism  of  fortune  and 
the  partiality  of  the  world ;  but  my  observa- 
tion leads  me  to  believe,  that  to  a  great  extent 


SELF-EDUCATION.  33 

those  who  deserve  promotion  obtain  it.    Those 
who  are  worthy  of  confidence  will  have  confi- 
dence reposed  in  them.     Those  who  give  evi 
dence  of  ability  and  industry  will  find  oppor- 
tunity enough  for  their  exercise. 

Take  a  familiar  illustration.  A  young  man 
engages  in  some  business,  who  is  in  every  re-  / 
spect  a  beginner  in  life.  A  common-school  / 
education  is  all  that  he  can  boast.  He  knows 
almost  nothing  of  the  world,  and  very  little  of 
the  occupation  on  which  he  has  entered.  He 
performs  his  duty  from  day  to  day  sufficiently 
well,  and  does  what  he  is  expected  to  do.  But 
it  does  not  enter  his  mind  to  do  any  thing  be- 
yond what  is  required,  nor  to  enlarge  his  ca- 
pacities by  reading  or  reflection.  He  is,  at 
the  best,  a  steady,  plodding  man,  who  will  go 
forward,  if  at  all,  very  slowly,  and  will  rise,  if 
at  all,  to  no  great  elevation.  He  is  not  the 
sort  of  person  who  is  looked  for  to  occupy  a 
higher  position.  One  opportunity  of  advance- 
ment after  another  may  come  directly  in  his 
reach,  and  he  asks  the  influence  of  friends  to 
push  him  upward.  They  give  it  feebly,  be- 
3 


34  SELF-EDUCATION. 

cause  they  have  no  great  hope  of  success,  and 
are  not  confident  in  their  own  recommenda- 
tion. As.  a  matter  of  course,  some  one  else, 
more  competent  or  more  earnest,  steps  in  be- 
fore him,  and  then  we  hear  renewed  com- 
plaints of  favoritism  and  injustice.  Such  an 
one  may  say  in  his  defence,  that  he  has  been 
guilty  of  no  dereliction  of  duty ;  that  no  fault 
has  been  found  with  him,  and  that  therefore 
he  was  entitled  to  advancement.  But  this 
does  not  follow.  Something  more  than  that 
may  reasonably  be  required.  To  bestow  in- 
creased confidence,  we  require  the  capacity 
and  habit  of  improvement  in  those  whom  we 
employ.  The  man  who  is  entitled  to  rise,  is 
one  who  is  always  enlarging  his  capacity,  so  < 
that  he  is  evidently  able  to  do  more  than  he  is 
actually  doing. 

In  every  department  of  business,  whether  of 
the  mechanic  or  merchant,  or  whatever  it  may 
oe,  there  is  a  large  field  of  useful  knowledge, 
which  should  be  carefully  explored.  An  ob- 
serving eye  and  an  inquiring  mind  will  always 
find  enough  for  examination  and  study  It 


SELF-EDUCATION.  35 

may  not  seem  to  be  of  immediate  use ;  it  may 
have  nothing  to  do  with  this  week's  or  this 
year's  duty;  yet  it  is  worth  knowing.  The 
mind  gains  vigor  by  the  inquiry,  and  the  hand 
itself  obtains  greater  skilfulness  by  the  intelli- 
gence which  directs  it. 

The  result  is  all  the  difference  between  a 
mere  drudge  and  an  intelligent  workman  ;  be- 
tween the  mere  salesman  or  clerk,  and  the  en- 
terprising merchant ;  between  the  obscure  and 
pettifogging  lawyer,  and  the  sagacious,  influ- 
ential counsellor.  It  is  the  difference  between 
one  who  deserves  to  be,  and  will  be,  station- 
ary in  the  world,  and  one  who,  having  deter- 
mined to  make  the  best  of  himself,  will  con- 
tinually rise  in  influence  and  true  respectabil- 
ity. This  whole  difference  we  may  see  every 
day  among  those  who  have  enjoyed  nearly 
equal  opportunities.  We  may  allow  some- 
thing to  what  are  called  the  accidents  of  social 
influence,  and  the  turns  of  fortune.  But  after 
all  fair  allowance  has  been  made,  we  shall  find 
that  the  great  cause  of  difference  is  in  the  men 
themselves.  Let  the  young  man  who  is  be- 


36  SELF-EDUCATION. 

ginning  life  put  away  from  him  all  notions  of 
advancement  without  desert.  A  man  of  hon- 
orable feelings  will  not  even  desire  it.  He 
will  rather  shrink  from  engaging  in  duties 
which  he  is  not  able  fairly  to  perform.  He 
will  first  of  all  secure  to  himself  the  capacity 
of  performing  them,  and  then  he  is  ready  fo? 
them  whenever  they  come. 

The  truth  of  what  I  have  now  said  will  be 
admitted  by  most  persons,  with  application  to 
the  business  in  which  each  one  is  engaged. 
It  will  be  admitted  that  the  young  mechanic 
or  the  young  merchant  should  inform  himself, 
as  soon  and  as  thoroughly  as  possible,  in  the 
whole  range  of  the  occupation  in  which  he  has 
embarked.  Every  one  can  see  the  direct  util- 
ity of  this.  But  when  a  larger  application  is 
given  to  the  same  principles,  it  is  often  disput- 
ed. It  is  thought  quite  unnecessary  for  those 
who  belong  to-  the  working  world  to  trouble 
themselves  about  general  information,  or  to 
educate  themselves  beyond  their  immediate 
walk  in  life.  There  is  almost  a  prejudice 
against  one  who  devotes  much  attention  to 


SELF-EDUCATION.  37 

subjects  of  art  or  science,  or  general  literature, 
as  though  such  occupations  were  inconsistent 
with  the  ordinary  routine  of  business  life. 

Nor  would  I  meet  this  prejudice  by  too  pos- 
itive denial.  I  am  willing  to  allow  that  he 
who  has  his  own  way  to  make  in  the  world, 
must  fix  his  eye  intently  upon  some  one  ob- 
ject of  pursuit,  and  not  suffer  his  mind  to  be 
distracted  from  it  by  any  thing  else.  That 
must  be  his  work  in  life,  to  which  every  other 
pursuit  must  for  the  time  be  subordinate. 
Particularly  is  this  true  to  the  beginner.  His 
heart  must  be  in  his  business.  He  must  lay 
hold  upon  it  with  a  grasp  that  nothing  can 
loosen.  He  must  attend  to  its  smallest  de- 
tails, in  preference  to  things  which  are  in 
themselves  a  thousand  times  more  important. 
For  the  present  duty  is  always  that  which 
must  be  performed.  We  cannot  excuse  our- 
selves for  its  neglect  because  it  is  insignificant 
or  disagreeable,  nor  because  something  else 
more  pleasant  and  seemingly  more  profitable 
offers  itself.  Especially  when  we  are  em- 
ployed by  others,  under  an  arrangement  to  do 


38  SELF-EDUCATION. 

a  specific  work  for  which  we  receive  compen- 
sation, we  are  bound  to  perform  every  part  of 
it  faithfully,  although  to  our  own  loss  and  dis- 
comfort. We  have  no  right  even  to  improve 
ourselves  at  the  expense  of  those  whom  we 
serve.  Nor  are  we  wise  if  we  suffer  ourselves 
to  be  diverted  from  the  occupation  which  we 
have  deliberately  chosen,  for  the  cultivation  of 
taste  or  the  acquisition  of  knowledge. 

He  who  neglects  his  Coke  upon  Littleton 
for  the  beauties  of  Shakspeare  may  be  com- 
mended for  his  taste,  but  will  never  do  much 
as  a  lawyer.  He  who  loves  the  books  in  his 
own  library  so  much,  that  he  turns  over  the 
books  in  his  counting-room  with  disgust,  may 
become  a  scholar,  but  not  a  merchant.  What- 
ever is  our  occupation,  therefore,  particularly 
while  we  are  young,  should  be  made  our  chief 
work.  It  should  stand  first  in  our  thoughts, 
We  should  never  neglect  it  for  the  sake  of  any 
incidental  advantages,  however  great  they  may 
appear.  But  in  all  this  there  is  nothing  in 
consistent  with  the  work  of  self-education, 
This  steadfastness  of  purpose,  this  close  adhe 


SELF-EDUCATION.  89 

rence  to  a  fixed  plan  of  life,  is  in  itself  a  good 
discipline,  both  for  the  mind  and  character. 

Let  us  make  our  work  a  part  of  the  general 
plan  of  duty  and  self-improvement,  and  we 
can  bring  under  the  same  plan  all  other  things 
which  tend  to  the  same  result.  There  is  no 
necessity  of  one  part  of  our  duty  interfering 
with  another.  Rightly  done,  the  proper  per- 
formance of  each  part  will  help  all  the  rest. 

I  know  the  objection  which  immediately 
arises,  when  any  plan  of  self-education  is  pro- 
posed. It  is  the  want  of  time.  But,  gener- 
ally speaking,  it  would  come  nearer  the  truth 
to  say  "  want  of  inclination."  Very  few  per- 
sons are  so  burdened  with  work  that  they  can- 
not find  one  or  two  hours  in  the  day  at  their 
own  command.  It  requires,  indeed,  some  res- 
olution to  use  such  time  according  to  a  regu- 
lar plan  of  self-education  ;  but  in  that  case  we 
ought  not  to  plead  the  want  of  time,  but  of 
purpose.  The  proper  and  judicious  use  of  one 
hour  a  day  is  enough  to  make  any  of  us  well- 
educated  men  in  the  course  of  a  few  years. 
Make  the  trial  faithfully,  and  you  will  be  as- 


40  SELF-EDUCATION. 

tonished  how  much  can  be  accomplished  in 
that  one  hour  a  day.  Some  of  the  profound- 
est  scholars  and  most  voluminous  writers  in 
the  world,  have  confined  themselves  to  their 
study  but  two  or  three  hours  daily.  The  rest 
of  their  time  has  been  given  to  the  active  pur- 
suits of  life. 

There  is,  undoubtedly,  a  part  of  the  year  in 
which  young  men  cannot  find  the  hour  of 
which  I  now  speak.  There  is  a  part  of  the 
year  in  which  they  are  overworked  as  if  they 
were  beasts  of  burden.  It  is  a  pity,  and  it 
seems  to  me  wrong  that  it  is  so.  It  is  often  a 
permanent  injury  to  their  health,  and  such 
seasons  of  overworking  leave  them  in  a  state 
of  body  and  mind  most  unfavorable  for  the 
work  of  self-improvement,  when  the  time  for 
it  is  again  allowed.  He  who  has  been  thus 
crowded  and  overladen  for  two  or  three 
months,  is  apt  to  feel,  when  the  burden  is 
thrown  off,  that  he  can  relish  nothing  but 
frivolous  amusements  or  complete  idleness. 
Thus,  a  few  months'  excessive  working  be- 
comes an  excuse  for  wasting  the  leisure  time 


SELF-EDUCATION.  41 

of  the  whole  year.  But  it  needs  no  argument 
to  show  the  folly  of  this.  When  every  mo- 
ment is  occupied  with  work,  we  cannot  be 
blamed  for  having  no  leisure.  But  when  the 
work  ceases  and  the  leisure  comes,  it  should 
be  all  the  more  diligently  used.  The  great 
majority  of  young  men  in  this  city  have  their 
evenings  to  themselves,  if  nothing  more,  dur- 
ing seven  or  eight  months  of  the  year.  Let 
one  half  of  that  time  be  spent  with  a  view  to 
self-education,  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge 
and  in  the  improvement  of  the  mind,  and  how 
great  a  revolution  would  be  wrought  by  a  few 
years  in  our  city.  What  a  noble  class  of 
young  men  would  then  come  forward  to  oc- 
cupy the  prominent  places  in  society.  How 
quickly  would  all  the  interests  of  science,  of 
literature,  of  art  and  philanthropy,  flourish 
among  us.  The  foolish  and  wicked  dissipa- 
tions of  city  life  would  rapidly  decline,  and  the 
moral  wilderness  would  blossom  as  the  rose. 

We  do  not  deny  the  necessity  of  amuse- 
ment and  of  recreation.  Neither  bodily  nor 
mental  health  can  be  secured  without  them. 


42  SELF-EDUCATION. 

But  if  our  recreations  are  judiciously  selected^ 
we  shall  find  time  enough  for  them,  without 
interference  with  more  important  things. 

It  is  when  we  make  a  business  of  pleasure 
that  it  becomes  hurtful.  It  is  when  we  seek 
for  amusement  in  the  haunts  of  dissipation,  or 
with  wicked  companions,  that  it  becomes  sin- 
ful. A  sensible  man  can  find  time  enough 
and  ways  enough  for  all  the  recreation  he 
needs,  without  encroachment  upon  the  real 
work  of  life.  I  have,  indeed,  met  with  a  few 
instances  in  which  persons  are  kept  so  con- 
stantly at  work  that  they  have  almost  no  time 
to  themselves.  I  know  young  men  who, 
through  a  greater  part  of  the  year,  are  so  over- 
tasked, that  when  the  Sunday  comes  they 
have  heart  for  nothing  and  are  almost  fit  for 
nothing,  except  sleeping  or  idleness,  and  who 
decline  coming  to  church  because  they  cannot 
keep  awake.  In  such  cases  their  employers 
are  guilty  of  great  sin.  But  they  are  the  ex- 
ceptions which  serve  to  show  that  it  is  very 
different  with  the  majority.  With  nearly  all 
there  is  time  enough  for  the  common  work  of 


SELF-EDUCATION.  43 

the  day  and  for  needful  recreation,  and  a  sur- 
plus of  one  or  two  hours  at  least  for  self-im- 
provement. 

We  again  admit  that  the  proper  use  of  that 
hour  or  two  requires  a  resolute  purpose.  It 
must  often  be  done  as  a  duty,  rather  than  as  a 
pleasure.  But  it  may  be  done,  and  by  those 
who  take  the  right  view  of  life  it  will  be  done. 
The  end  in  view  is  worth  striving  for.  It  is 
to  make  ourselves  intelligent,  thoughtful,  and 
well-educated  men. 

It  is  to  raise  ourselves  above  mere  servants 
and  laborers  into  a  position  of  influence  and 
growing  usefulness.  It  is  to  make  men  of 
ourselves,  and  to  fit  us  for  the  duties  which 
men  alone  can  do.  If  I  could  induce  all  who 
hear  me  to  spend  the  evenings  of  this  coming 
winter  with  a  direct  view  to  self-education, 
they  would  have  reason  to  thank  me  for  it  all 
the  rest  of  their  lives.  The  result  of  the  whole 
ife  would  be  thereby  changed,  for  this  is  a 
work  which,  once  entered  upon,  will  not  be 
abandoned. 

He  who  begins  to  grow  in  knowledge  and 


44  SELF-EDUCATION. 

refinement  will  continue  to  advance,  because 
he  learns  to  love  the  pursuit.  I  ask  you, 
therefore,  to  think  carefully  upon  this  subject. 
Do  you  not  need  this  self-education  ? 

Are  you  satisfied  to  remain  as  you  now  are? 

Can  you  not  see  that  your  usefulness,  your 
happiness,  and  your  real  respectability  would 
be  indefinitely  increased,  by  devoting  a  part 
of  each  day  to  the  acquisition  of  knowledge 
and  the  improvement  of  your  mind  ? 

None  can  be  so  blind  as  not  to  see  this  ;  a 
great  many  are  too  indolent  to  act  accordingly. 

But,  first  of  all,  as  the  beginning  and  foun- 
dation of  all  improvement,  is  the  distinct  ac- 
knowledgment of  its  necessity.  To  acknowl- 
edge it  in  general  terms,  is  not  enough.  It 
must  be  felt.  As  we  feel  the  necessity  of  food 
when  we  are  hungry,  so  must  we  feel  the  ne- 
cessity of  improvement,  before  we  shall  suc- 
ceed in  gaining  it.  The  young  are  prevented 
from  feeling  it,  chiefly  by  two  causes  ;  some- 
times by  self-conceit;  sometimes  by  having 
too  low  a  standard  of  excellence  before  them. 
We  are  apt  to  think  better  of  ourselves  in  ear- 


SELF-EDUCATION.  45 

ly  life  than  at  any  subsequent  period.  As  we 
grow  older  and  wiser  we  feel  our  deficiencies 
more,  for  it  requires  a  certain  degree  of  knowl- 
edge to  know  how  much  is  to  be  learned. 
Our  ideal  of  excellence  also  remains  low  until 
the  mind  and  character  are  developed.  Thus, 
from  the  two  causes  together,  we  are  easily 
satisfied  in  youth  with  attainments  of  which 
in  after  years  we  would  feel  ashamed.  This 
same  experience  we  go  through,  most  proba- 
bly, whether  we  are  scholars,  or  men  of  busi- 
ness, or  men  of  the  world.  Accordingly  you 
will  find  many  young  men,  who  account 
themselves  complete  merchants  and  accom- 
plished gentlemen,  when  in  fact  they  are  but 
beginners,  and  perhaps  give  but  a  bad  prom- 
ise for  the  future  in  either  department. 

It  requires  a  great  deal  to  make  an  accom- 
plished gentleman.  It  is  not  only  to  wear 
good  clothing  in  a  way  which  shows  that  one 
is  used  to  it,  or  to  be  free  from  awkward- 
ness in  manners,  although  this  is  something. 
There  must  be  an  accomplished  mind.  There 
must  be  delicacy  of  feeling  and  refinement  of 


46  SELF-EDUCATION. 

taste.  For  all  this  will  show  itself  in  the 
manners  of  a  gentleman.  Without  it  there 
may  be  a  kind  of  polish,  —  that  which  the 
dancing-master  and  the  clothing-store  can 
give,  —  which  is  the  highest  ambition  of  many 
persons  to  attain.  Many  a  dapper  and  spruce 
young  gentleman  is  as  proud  of  its  attain- 
ment, as  if  it  were  a  sufficient  passport  to  per- 
fect gentility;  but  it  is  not  so.  To  be  an  ac- 
complished gentleman,  one  must  be  a  thinking 
and  well-educated  man.  No  external  polish 
can  take  the  place  of  the  thoughtful  mind 
which  gives  a  manly  expression  to  the  fea- 
tures, and  the  refinement  of  taste  which  be- 
stows grace  and  gentleness  upon  the  deport- 
ment. 

In  like  manner  does  it  require  a  great  deal 
to  make  a  complete  merchant.  Merely  to  buy 
and  to  sell,  to  know  how  to  make  a  shrewd 
bargain,  to  understand  the  quality  of  the  com- 
mon articles  of  merchandise,  is  very  far  from 
being  all.  All  of  this  may  be  learned  by  one 
who  cannot  speak  his  own  language  correctly, 
and  who  has  no  conception  of  the  real  uses  of 


SELF-EDUCA11UN.  47 

trade.  Commerce  is  the  great  civilizing  agent 
of  the  world.  Let  it  work  as  it  ought  to  do, 
hand  in  hand  with  knowledge  and  virtue  and 
religion,  and  it  is  the  messenger  of  peace  and 
good-will  among  men.  The  merchant  who 
understands  the  nobleness  of  his  calling,  occu- 
pies a  position  far  above  that  of  mere  buying 
and  selling.  He  cannot  be  narrow-minded ; 
he  cannot  stoop  to  the  mean  and  tricky  con- 
trivances, by  which  men  overreach  each  oth- 
er. He  is  not  contented  merely  to  make 
money  and  to  spend  it.  He  takes  a  large 
view  of  society  and  its  interests.  His  inter- 
course with  different  parts  of  the  world  frees 
his  mind  from  prejudice,  and  prepares  him  to 
receive  light  from  whatever  quarter  it  may 
come.  He  feels  it  to  be  his  duty  to  introduce 
into  the  community  where  he  lives,  all  the 
means  of  improvement  which  are  found  else- 
where. Thus  regarded,  commerce  becomes  an 
nterchange  of  ideas  as  well  as  of  goods.  But 
to  make  it  so,  those  who  conduct  it  must  be 
men  of  intelligence,  of  refinement,  and  of  truth. 
The  young  man  who  enters  upon  such  a  ca- 


48  SELF-EDUCATION. 

reer  should  feel  respect  for  his  calling.  He 
should  determine  to  qualify  himself  by  self- 
culture,  by  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  and 
the  practice  of  virtue,  to  become  a  complete 
merchant,  to  rise  to  the  head  of  his  profes- 
sion. No  man  need  to  have  a  more  honorable 
ambition  than  that.  It  will  task  all  his  pow- 
ers ;  it  will  give  room  for  the  exercise  of  his 
best  faculties  and  for  the  use  of  his  highest 
attainments.  How  sad  it  is  to  see  so  many, 
with  such  a  career  before  them,  contented  to 
remain  all  their  lives  with  no  higher  ideas  than 
to  write  a  good  hand,  or  to  make  a  close  bar- 
gain! There  is  no  scholarly  profession  better 
calculated  to  enlarge  the  mind  and  elevate  the 
character  than  the  pursuits  of  commerce ;  yet 
they  are  often  debased  to  the  most  pitiful  uses, 
and  those  who  engage  in  them  often  remain 
through  their  whole  lives  ignorant  and  uned- 
ucated. 

To  prevent  such  a  result  the  young  man 
who  enters  upon  this  career  should  take  him- 
self in  hand.  He  should  place  his  standard 
of  excellence  very  high,  and  use  all  the  means 


SELF-EDUCATION.  49 

in  his  reach  to  attain  it.  Chiefly  through  self- 
culture,  in  the  daily  acquisition  of  knowledge, 
and  by  a  manly  and  honorable  course  of  life, 
he  should  make  himself  worthy  of  his  calling, 
and  of  the  highest  honors  it  can  bring.  How 
different  will  be  the  whole  tenor  of  his  life,  if 
he  enters  upon  it  with  such  views  as  these ! 
How  easy  will  it  be  to  resist  the  enticements 
of  pleasure  and  the  allurements  of  vice!  With 
what  instinctive  disgust  will  he  shrink  from 
low  associates  and  the  vulgarity  of  dissipa- 
tion. With  such  an  end  in  view,  how  easy 
will  it  be  to  find  time  for  reading  and  oppor- 
tunity for  self-improvement. 

With  such  a  purpose  in  his  heart  from  day 
to  day,  he  is  secured  from  the  temptations  to 
which  youth  is  chiefly  exposed,  and  has  only 
to  press  forward  to  secure  the  highest  reward 
which  a  true  ambition  can  ask. 

We    might    go   through    nearly   the    same 

ourse  of  remark  with  regard  to  the  mechanic. 

The  mere  workman  does  not  seem  to  occupy 

an  elevated  place  in  society ;    although,  if  he 

does  his  work  well  and  conducts  himself  with 

4 


50  SELF-EDUCATION. 

honesty  and  sobriety,  he  occupies  a  place  of 
usefulness  and  is  worthy  of  respect.  By  the 
force  of  character,  if  he  has  no  other  advan- 
tages, he  may  work  his  way  to  confidence  and 
to  high  estimation  among  men.  But  there  is 
no  necessity  of  his  remaining  a  mere  work- 
man. In  this  country,  as  large  and  as  good  a 
field  of  action  is  open  before  him  as  before  any 
other.  If  he  has  the  natural  ability  and  will 
use  the  opportunities  of  improvement  offered 
to  him,  he  may  rise  to  as  great  height  as  he 
can  reasonably  desire.  Look  at  the  triumphs 
of  art  and  the  perfection  to  which  the  science  of 
mechanics  has  been  brought  in  our  day.  Look 
at  the  names  which  society  delights  to  honor> 
in  this  country  and  in  England,  and  see  how 
many  are  of  men  who  began  at  the  work- 
bench or  at  the  forge,  and  who,  by  the  appli- 
cation of  their  minds  to  the  work  in  which 
they  engaged,  carved  for  themselves  a  way  to 
distinction  and  usefulness.  The  name  of 
"mechanic"  has  long  ceased  to  be  one  of  so- 
cial contempt.  Let  the  young  mechanic  learn 
to  be  a  thinking  and  observing  man,  and  he 


SELF-EDUCATION.  51 

will  find  as  easy  and  as  rapid  progress  in  the 
world  as  through  any  other  calling.  There  is 
certainly  nothing  in  work  itself  to  degrade  the 
mind  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  we  are  more  apt 
to  find  the  development  of  practical  and  sound 
udgment  in  the  workshop  than  in  the  study. 
Only  let  the  same  pains  be  taken  to  improve 
the  mind,  and  the  workingman  would  have 
the  advantage.  We  admit,  as  we  have  al- 
ready done,  that  it  requires  strong  resolution 
in  one  who  has  been  closely  employed  all  day, 
to  turn  his  attention  to  the  work  of  self-culture 
at  night.  But  it  is  certainly  not  impossible 
nor  impracticable,  for  many  do  it ;  and  my  ob- 
ject in  speaking  is  to  inspire  such  resolution  in 
those  who  hear  me.  If  it  were  a  thing  that 
could  be  done  without  effort,  it  would  proba- 
bly be  not  so  well  worth  the  doing. 

There  never  was  a  country  or  an  age,  in 
which  greater  opportunities  were  offered  to 
young  men  than  our  own.  The  age  is  one  in 
which  all  the  elements  of  advancing  civiliza- 
tion are  at  work.  Our  country  is,  perhaps,  the 
only  one  in  the  world  which  offers  a  fair  and 


52  SELF-EDUCATION. 

equal  field  for  the  competition  of  all  who  enter 
upon  it.  There  is  every  excitement  for  the 
young  man  to  lay  hold  upon  his  work  in  life, 
with  the  vigorous  determination  to  make  the 
most  of  himself  and  to  play  his  part  in  the 
world  manfully.  Society  places  no  obstacles 
in  the  way  of  his  advancement.  There  are  no 
serious  difficulties  to  be  overcome,  except  in 
himself.  If  he  remains  obscure  and  useless,  it 
is  his  own  fault.  If  he  fails  to  become  a  well- 
educated  and  influential  man,  it  is  not  for  the 
want  of  opportunity,  but  of  industry  and  en- 
terprise. 

Look  particularly  at  the  position  which  our 
own  city  occupies,  and  see  if  a  young  man 
could  reasonably  ask  a  nobler  sphere  of  action, 
or  better  opportunities  of  self-advancement, 
than  are  offered  here.  In  this  great  Western 
valley,  which  is  destined  to  become  the  garden 
of  the  world,  and  will  contain  in  itself  a  great- 
er population  than  that  of  the  whole  United 
States  at  this  time,  our  city  is  one  of  the  chief 
points  of  'nfluence.  By  a  remarkable  growth 
it  now  contains  nearly  a  hundred  thousand  in- 


SELF-EDUCATION.  53 

habitants,  and  every  thing  indicates  that  its  fu- 
ture increase  will  be  as  rapid  as  the  past.  We 
shall  have  no  reason  to  be  surprised  if  in  a  few 
years  its  present  number  is  doubled.  A  grand 
system  of  internal  improvement  is  now  begun, 
by  which,  if  we  take  hold  of  it  as  we  ought, 
this  city  will  become  the  centre  of  a  com- 
merce as  great  as  that  of  our  largest  Eastern 
cities  now.  In  ten  years'  time  its  railroads 
will  stretch  from  the  sources  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Mississippi,  and  from  the  Atlantic  to  the 
Pacific  Ocean.  The  imagination  loses  itself 
in  the  grandeur  of  such  enterprises  ;  but  they 
seem  _  chimerical  only  because  they  are  so 
great.  They  are  perfectly  practicable,  for  the 
resources  at  command  are  equal  to  the  work, 
and  the  benefits  realized  at  each  advancing 
step  will  secure  their  ultimate  completion. 

A  prudent  man  may  hesitate  to  say  what 
the  West  and  its  leading  cities  will  become, 
for  fear  of  being  accounted  visionary.  But  I 
doubt  if  any  expectations  have  been  formed 
so  sanguine  that  they  will  not  be  accom- 
plished and  surpassed. 

But  with  the  possibility  of  such  a  future 


54  SELF- EDUCATION. 

before  us,  what  manner  of  men  ought  those  to 
be  to  whom  the  vital  interests  of  society  are 
intrusted?  In  what  manner  shall  they  do 
their  part  now,  so  as  to  secure  the  prosperity 
for  which  we  hope,  and  prepare  themselves  to 
meet  its  responsibilities  ?  What  kind  of 
young  men  are  needed  in  an  infant  city  which 
promises  to  grow  to  such  a  robust  manhood  ? 
It  is  not  those  who  spend  their  time  in  the 
tavern  and  at  the  billiard -table ;  not  those 
whose  best  ambition  is  to  make  a  good  figure 
in  the  ball-room  and  the  dance;  not  those 
who  pride  themselves  in  their  dress  and  equi- 
page ;  not  those  whose  only  ambition  in  life  is 
to  become  rich  ;  but  we  need  those  who,  keep- 
ing themselves  free  from  idle  dissipation,  begin 
their  career  with  frugality  and  honorable  in- 
dustry, and,  in  every  step  of  their  progress, 
take  pains  to  educate  themselves,  to  develop 
their  minds,  to  mature  their  character,  to 
strengthen  their  judgment;  so  that,  as  their  du- 
ties in  life  become  more  important,  they  will 
be  able  to  perform  them  with  faithfulness. 
We  need  young  men  who  have  an  honorable 
ambition  in  life  ;  determined  to  be  useful  ac- 


SELF-EDUCATION. 


55 


cording  to  their  ability,  and  to  increase  their 
ability  by  diligent  self-culture  and  the  prac- 
tice of  virtue.  Give  us  a  class  of  young  men 
such  as  this,  and  what  a  glorious  future  ours 
would  be.  For  I  would  again  say,  it  is  upon 
the  young  men  that  it  chiefly  depends.  The 
older  and  wealthier  portion  of  the  community 
may  do  their  part ;  but  the  tone  of  society, 
the  intellectual  and  moral  character  of  our 
city,  ten  or  twenty  years  hence,  depends  chief- 
ly upon  those  who  are  young  now.  Almost 
every  thing  that  is  needed  for  the  moral  and 
intellectual  growth  of  this  community  is  yet 
to  be  done.  A  beginning  is  scarcely  made. 
Institutions  of  almost  every  kind  are  yet  to  be 
founded,  or,  if  already  begun,  need  to  be  fos- 
tered and  strengthened.  In  every  department 
of  philanthropy,  of  religious  and  moral  enter- 
prise, laborers  are  needed.  But  still  more  than 
this.  There  is  need  of  a  more  elevated  pub- 
lic opinion,  of  greater  refinement  of  taste,  of  a 
higher  standard  of  morality,  of  more  profound 
respect  for  religion.  We  need  an  army  drawn 
out  in  battle  array  against  the  six  hundred 
bar-moms  of  the  city*  and  against  the  thou- 


56  SELF-EDUCATION. 

sand  demoralizing  influences  so  busily  at 
work  among  us.  Where  shall  we  find  the 
growing  strength  that  is  needed  against  the 
growing  evil,  except  in  the  vigor  of  youthful 
manliness  ?  Where  shall  we  find  recruits  for 
that  peaceful  army,  except  among  young  men, 
whose  own  interests  are  chiefly  in  peril  ? 

Finally,  let  us  remember  that  the  chief  in- 
fluence which  every  one  of  us  exerts  is  the  in- 
fluence of  character.  This  is  an  individual 
work,  and  it  is  the  most  important  work  that 
any  one  of  us  can  do.  We  do  it  faithfully,  in 
proportion  as  we  keep  ourselves  from  the  pur- 
suit of  folly,  from  the  commission  of  sin;  in 
proportion  as  we  grow  in  excellence  and  use- 
fulness ;  in  proportion  to  our  attainment  of 
the  Christian  graces  and  to  our  practice  of  the 
Christian  virtues.  Young  men,  what  motive 
is  wanting  to  secure  your  diligence  and  faith- 
fulness, when  the  very  same  course  of  life  will 
conduct  you  to  self-respect,  to  honor  among 
men,  and  to  the  approbation  of  God  ?  There 
fore,  get  wisdom,  get  understanding.  Take 
fast  hold  of  instruction  ;  let  her  not  go ;  keep 
her,  for  she  is  thy  life. 


LECTURE    III. 


LEISURE  TIME. 

"  See  then  that  ye  walk  circumspectly,  not  as  fools,  but  as  wise,  n 
deeming  the  time."  — Eph.  v.  15, 16. 

THE  great  difference  between  young  men, 
with  regard  to  the  work  of  self-improvement, 
comes  from  the  different  manner  in  which  they 
employ  their  leisure  time.  The  working  day 
is  very  much  the  same  to  all.  A  specific  task 
is  to  be  done,  and  the  motive  for  its  faithful 
performance  is  so  urgent,  that  it  is  not  likely 
to  be  neglected,  except  by  those  who  have  al- 
ready taken  a  good  many  steps  towards  be- 
coming worthless.  But  in  the  manner  of 
spending  their  leisure  time,  the  greatest  possi- 
ble difference  is  found,  and  from  this,  in  the 
course  of  years,  proceeds  almost  the  whole  dif- 
ference among  men.  He  who  spends  his  lei- 


58  LEISURE    TIME. 

sure  time  well,  is  an  improving  man ;  he  who 
spends  it  badly,  is  one  who  will  remain  sta- 
tionary or  go  downward. 

By  leisure  time,  we  mean,  chiefly,  the  even- 
ing and  the  Sabbath.  For  although,  during 
the  day,  there  are  a  great  many  hours  quite 
idle,  the  etiquette  of  business  is  understood  to 
forbid  the  young  man  to  do  any  thing  with 
such  unemployed  time,  except  to  lounge  about 
the  store  or  stand  upon  the  pavement.  I  am 
not  able  to  perceive  the  necessity  of  this ;  but 
as  the  rule  is  universal,  I  take  for  granted  that 
it  is  founded  on  right.  Otherwise,  I  should 
suppose  that  it  would  be  far  better  both  for 
employers  and  employed,  when  perhaps  five 
or  six  young  men  have  almost  nothing  to  do, 
for  several  months  in  the  year,  that  they  should 
be  encouraged  in  some  regular  plan  of  self-im- 
provement ;  but  having  no  practical  knowl- 
edge upon  the  subject,  I  do  not  venture  to  ex- 
press an  opinion. 

The  leisure  time  of  which  we  speak  at  pres- 
ent, is  that  which  young  men  have  entirely  at 
their  own  control.  It  does  not  belong  to  the 


LEISURE    TIME.  59 

business  hours,  and  they  may  use  it  to  good 
or  bad  purpose  or  to  no  purpose,  just  as  they 
please.  From  the  manner  in  which  they 
please  to  use  it,  I  repeat,  the  ultimate  differ- 
ence in  their  characters  and  their  prospects  in 
life  will  chiefly  depend. 

This  may  not  at  first  be  admitted.  Young 
men  are  apt  to  think  that,  if  their  working 
hours  are  well  employed,  it  is  no  matter  what 
becomes  of  the  rest;  that  it  is  their  own  time, 
for  which  they  are  responsible  to  nobody. 
But  they  will  discover,  before  life  closes,  that 
they  are  responsible  for  it  to  their  own  con- 
sciences and  to  God.  The  sum  of  their  re- 
sponsibility and  the  result  of  their  whole  lives, 
for  good  or  evil,  depends  upon  this  more  than 
upon  any  thing  else. 

We  grant  that  a  single  evening,  whether 
idled  away  or  well  used,  is  no  very  great  mat- 
ter ;  yet  perhaps  that  single  evening  may 
bring  the  commencement  of  a  long  train  of 
vices,  which  ends  in  complete  ruin.  We  grant 
that  a*  single  Sunday,  devoted  to  amusement, 
may  have  no  great  influence  upon  the  general 


60  LEISURE    TIME. 

character ;  yet  that  one  day  misspent  may  be 
the  first  step  towards  a  life  of  irreligion.  But 
it  is  not  of  single  violations  of  duty  that  we 
are  now  speaking,  nor  of  the  manner  in  which 
we  spend  the  leisure  time  of  a  single  day.  I 
speak  of  the  habit  of  life.  How  are  your  even- 
ings generally  spent  ?  To  what  employment 
is  your  Sunday  generally  devoted  ?  Answer 
that  question  for  a  year,  and  I  will  tell  you, 
with  almost  absolute  certainty,  whether  you 
are  growing  better  or  worse  in  character ; 
whether  the  tendency  of  your  whole  lives  is 
upward  or  downward.  Answer  that  ques- 
tion for  a  series  of  ten  years,  and  we  need 
nothing  else  to  determine  the  degree  of  your 
real  respectability  and  usefulness  in  the 
world.  If  I  am  to  decide  upon  a  man's  char- 
acter, I  desire  to  know  nothing  more  than 
this,  —  How  are  his  evenings  and  his  Sun- 
days passed  ? 

It  is  for  the  want  of  paying  regard  to  this, 
that  we  are  so  often  deceived  in  the  real  char- 
acter of  business  men.  We  see  one,  for  in- 
stance, who  is  every  day  punctually  at  hit- 


LEISURE    TIME. 


61 


work,  and  who,  through  all  the  business  hours, 
is  found  in  his  proper  place.  He  is  attentive 
and  industrious  there,  and  we  pronounce  him 
a  good  business  man  and  repose  unlimited 
confidence  in  him.  All  at  once,  we  find  that 
his  character  is  rotten  at  the  core.  He  abuses 
our  confidence,  neglects  our  interests,  and 
proves  altogether  unworthy  of  trust.  We  are 
completely  astonished  at  such  a  development. 
We  speak  of  it  as  if  it  were  a  sudden  change 
of  character,  for  which  it  is  impossible  to  ac- 
count. But  if  we  had  known,  for  several 
years  before,  to  what  pursuits  his  leisure  time 
was  devoted,  we  should  have  anticipated  the 
result,  long  before  it*  actually  came.  There 
probably  has  been  for  many  years  some  cor- 
rupting influence,  some  vile  habit  of  dissipa- 
tion or  self-indulgence,  by  which  the  character 
has  been  gradually  undermined  ;  and  although 
the  fall  itself  seerns  to  be  sudden,  the  causes 
which  led  to  it  have  long  been  at  work.  Our 
knowledge  of  the  world  should  teach  us  never 
to  put  great  confidence  in  any  man's  virtue  or 
honesty,  unless  we  know  to  what  pursuits  his 


62  LEISURE    TIME. 

leisure  time  is  given.  Then  it  is  that  his  real 
tendencies  show  themselves.  Then  it  is,  when 
no  longer  under  the  external  pressure  of  busi- 
ness, that  he  acts  himself  out  most  freely  ;  and 
if  you  find  that  his  tastes  are  then  depraved, 
that  his  pleasures  are  low,  that  his  compan- 
ions are  dissipated  or  vulgar,  you  may  mark 
him  as  an  unsafe  man,  who,  sooner  or  later, 
will  prove  himself  unworthy  of  respect  or  con- 
fidence. 

Take,  for  illustration,  two  general  plans  of 
life  in  the  employment  of  leisure  time.  We 
need  not  select  extreme  cases,  either  of  good 
or  bad,  but  such  as  are  met  with  in  every  day's 
observation. 

There  are  many  who,  when  the  day's  work 
is  over,  are  guided  by  no  particular  rule  with 
regard  to  their  evenings.  They  have  no  feel- 
ing of  duty  upon  the  subject.  To  get  rid  of 
the  time  in  some  way,  so  that  it  may  not  be 
tedious,  is  their  only  thought.  A  half-hour  or 
/more  they  idle  about  their  hotels  in  very  un- 
profitable conversation  and  in  laughter,  which 
is  apt  to  be  loud  in  proportion  as  the  cause 


LEISURE    TIME.  63 

which  excites  it  is  objectionable.  Thence  they 
stroll  in  groups  of  two  or  three  together,  per* 
haps  to  some  stylish  saloon,  either  with  or 
without  the  intention  of  drinking,  but  gener- 
ally it  results  in  their  "  taking  something,"  and 
with  some  other  groups,  engaged  in  the  same 
employment  of  killing  time,  the  conversation 
becomes  still  more  unprofitable  and  the  mirth 
more  boisterous.  The  billiard-room  or  bowl- 
ing-alley demands  their  next  attention,  and 
there,  perhaps,  the  rest  of  the  evening  is  spent; 
or  if  not,  the  transition  is  to  some  other  amuse- 
ments of  about  the  same  grade.  Occasionally 
a  little  improvement  is  made  upon  this,  by 
giving  the  evening  and  a  great  part  of  the 
night  to  the  ball-room,  where  there  is  at  least 
the  refining  influence  of  ladies'  society,  and, 
generally  speaking,  the  absence  of  vulgarity 
and  dissipation.  Occasionally  the  concert- 
room  affords  a  more  refined  and  unobjection- 
able employment,  or  the  theatre  mingles  with 
the  entertainment  some  elements  of  instruc- 
tion and  intellectual  enjoyment.  Occasion- 
ally, when  these  different  resorts  become  tire- 


64  LEISURE    TIME. 

some  or  too  expensive,  or  when  some  particu- 
lar temptation  comes  in  the  way,  the  evening 
is  given  to  what  is  called  a  frolic,  in  which  the 
elements  of  sin  are  mingled  far  enough  to  give 
piquancy  and  novelty  to  the  entertainment, 
without  awakening  the  severe  reproaches  of 
conscience. 

Such  is  the  history  of  the  evening.  We 
have  not  spoken  of  intemperance,  of  gambling 
and  licentiousness,  for  these  do  not  come  till 
afterwards.  We  are  speaking  only  of  that 
mode  of  life  into  which  young  men  fall,  be- 
cause they  have  no  particular  rule  of  conduct, 
no  fixed  principle  of  life.  Their  Sundays  will 
be  in  general  of  the  same  sort,  with  perhaps  a 
greater  touch  of  respectability,  resulting  from 
their  early  associations  with  the  day.  They 
rise  very  late ;  spend  an  unusual  time  over 
the  newspaper ;  devote  three  or  four  hours  to 
novel-reading,  and  two  or  three  more,  perhaps, 
after  the  dinner  hour  has  been  prolonged  as 
much  as  possible,  to  an  afternoon  ride,  in  the 
progress  of  which  it  will  be  strange  if  some- 
thing very  much  like  dissipation  does  not  oc- 


LEISURE    TIME.  65 

cur.  Sometimes,  but  probably  at  long  inter- 
vals, they  find  leisure  to  visit  a  church  ;  but 
they  do  not  feel  quite  comfortable  there  :  for 
if  the  minister  is  faithful,  he  touches  their  con- 
sciences too  much,  and  if  not  faithful,  he  is 
sure  to  be  dull ;  so  that  their  visits  become  less 
and  less  frequent,  until  they  completely  cease. 
Sometimes  they  find  their  way  to  their  count- 
ing-rooms or  other  places  of  business,  and  ei- 
ther by  themselves,  or  with  some  customer, 
who  has  been  introduced  at  a  side  door,  they 
devote  a  few  hours  to  their  ordinary  week-day 
work.  Sometimes,  and  more  frequently  as 
time  progresses,  they  join  regular  pleasure- par- 
ties, which,  upon  the  steamboat  or  elsewhere, 
are  contrived  for  the  profanation  of  the  Sab- 
bath upon  a  large  scale. 

We  have  not  here  spoken  of  an  extreme 
case,  although  tolerably  bad.  You  will  find  a 
great  many  such,  among  those  who  call  them- 
selves respectable  and  moral  young  men 
You  will  also  find  a  great  many  who  are  no 
longer  young,  but  whose  children  are  growing 
up  around  them,  the  history  of  whose  Sundays 
5 


66  LEISURE    TIME. 

and  other  leisure  time  is  very  much  what  has 
now  been  given. 

The  question  we  have  now  to  ask  is,  What 
must  be  the  effect  of  such  a  manner  of  life  up- 
on the  whole  character?  Take  a  series  of 
years,  and  what  must  be  its  influence  upon 
the  mind  and  heart?  Is  a  man  likely  to  grow 
better  under  this  discipline,  or  rather  this  want 
of  discipline,  or  is  he  not  quite  certain  to  gro\\ 
worse  ?  Is  he  in  a  course  of  self-education 
which  will  result  in  manliness  of  character,  re- 
finement of  taste,  true  elegance  of  manners,  or 
largeness  of  thought?  Is  he  likely  to  retain 
his  self-respect,  his  purity  of  feeling,  or  his 
scrupulousness  of  conscience?  Is  he  on  the 
road  to  become  a  useful  and  good  man,  or  the 
contrary  ?  I  think  that  the  questions  scarcely 
need  an  answer.  They  answer  themselves,  or 
if  not,  you  have  only  to  look  upon  those  who 
try  the  experiment,  and  you  will  find  an  an- 
swer to  fill  you  with  sadness  and  regret. 

Take,  then,  an  illustration  of  a  different 
course,  and,  again,  take  not  an  extreme  case, 
such  as  might  never  occur  in  real  life,  but  such 


LEISURE    TIME.  67 

as  may  be  met  with  every  day.  It  would  be 
easy  to  describe  a  manner  of  life  entirely  free 
from  all  follies,  in  which  not  a  day  nor  an  hour 
is  wasted  ;  in  which  the  whole  energies  are 
devoted  to  usefulness  and  self-improvement. 
But  a  model  character  like  this  is  so  rarely 
met  with,  that  it  seems  like  an  imaginary  pic- 
ture, and  its  perfection  causes  a  feeling  of  dis- 
couragement. As  a  teacher  of  morality,  I 
would  not  be  unreasonable  in  exaction.  It 
is  not  well  to  expect  too  much.  Something 
may  be  allowed  to  waywardness  and  youthful 
irresolution,  and  to  the  natural  love  of  amuse- 
ment. 

It  is  well,  however,  sometimes  to  bold  be- 
fore us  an  ideal  of  unsullied  excellence,  of  un- 
stained purity,  of  undivided  allegiance  to  duty. 
It  would  be  well  for  us  to  picture  to  ourselves 
what  a  young  man  might  become,  if  his  whole 
heart  were  given  to  the  pursuit  of  goodness 
and  wisdom.  If  we  could  follow  such  a  one, 
as  he  resists  one  temptation  after  another,  as 
he  adds  to  his  daily  store  of  useful  knowledge, 
as  he  cultivates  in  himself  every  Christian 


68  LEISURE    TIME. 

grace  and  manly  virtue,  conforming  himself 
diligently  to  that  standard  of  life  which  the 
Gospel  has  ordained,  it  would  be  impossible 
not  to  feel  respect  for  the  heroism  of  his  daily 
life,  and  admiration  for  the  victory  which  he 
daily  obtains.  Such  a  contemplation  would 
be  a  rebuke  to  our  own  indifference,  and  would 
make  us  feel  how  far  short  we  are  falling  of 
our  duty.  We  wonder  that  there  are  not  more 
who  take  hold  of  life  with  this  spirit.  We 
wonder  that  there  are  so  few  who  determine 
to  make  the  very  best  of  themselves,  to  make 
the  most  of  their  intellectual  and  moral 
strength  in  the  service  of  God  and  man.  But 
it  is  not  one  in  a  thousand,  —  no,  nor  in  ten 
thousand,  —  who  can  honestly  say  that  he  is 
doing  so.  We  excuse  ourselves  in  so  many 
deliberate  omissions  of  duty,  we  waste  so 
much  time  for  the  want  of  system  in  spending 
it,  we  allow  so  many  faults  of  character  for  the 
want  of  resolution  in  correcting  them,  that, 
even  when  our  general  intention  is  good,  we 
do  not  rise  to  one  half  the  excellence  of  which 
we  are  capable. 


LEISURE   TIME.  69 

In  our  present  treatment  of  the  subject,  how- 
ever, while  we  would  make  things  better  if  we 
could,  let  us  take  them  as  they  are.  We  do 
not  figure  to  ourselves,  therefore,  a  model 
young  man,  in  whom  there  are  no  faults  and 
who  never  wastes  an  hour  of  his  time  ;  but 
one  who  is  guided  by  prudence  and  a  sense 
of  duty  in  his  ordinary  life;  who  takes  pains 
to  avoid  the  follies  and  dissipations  which  un- 
dermine the  character,  and  to  educate  himself 
as  a  man  and  as  a  Christian,  by  the  attain- 
ment of  useful  information.  After  his  day's 
work  is  done,  we  may  leave  him  sufficient 
time  for  rest  and  recreation.  We  do  not  limit 
him  too  closely,  as  to  the  number  of  hours  in 
the  week  to  be  allowed  for  such  purposes ; 
only  let  him  remember  one  thing,  to  carry  his 
conscience  with  him  wherever  he  goes  and  to 
whatever  amusement  he  enters  upon  ;  for  con- 
science belongs  to  our  leisure  not  less  than  to 
our  working  time.  He  keeps  himself  away, 
therefore,  from  every  haunt  of  vice.  He 
avoids  bad  companions  and  takes  pains  to  se- 
lect good  society.  If  some  of  his  time  is  spent 


70  LEISURE    TIME. 

idly,  no  part  of  it  will  be  spent  badly ;  and  af- 
ter all  allowance  of  this  sort  has  been  made, 
he  will  find  a  part  of  every  day  and  a  great 
many  hours  in  every  week,  for  judicious  read- 
ing and  study.  The  general  purpose  of  self- 
education  is  never  forgotten,  and  more  or  less 
rapidly  the  work  is  accomplished.  His  Sun- 
days are  spent  either  in  good  society  of  friends 
and  kindred,  or  in  the  perusal  of  books,  cho- 
sen with  a  view  to  instruction  rather  than 
amusement;  or  in  the  performance  of  some 
work  of  Christian  charity  and  kindness.  His 
church  will  not  be  neglected,  but,  as  a  regular 
habit,  either  once  or  twice  in  the  Sunday  he 
goes  there,  not  only  as  a  habit,  but  for  the 
worship  of  God  and  to  seek  his  blessing. 

Surely  we  have  described  no  standard  of 
ideal  excellence  here.  Many  would  say  that 
it  is  but  a  tame  and  insufficient  character, 
which  the  pulpit  ought  not  to  hold  up  for  imi- 
tation. It  is  the  least  that  might  be  expected 
of  one  educated  by  Christian  parents,  and  who 
acknowledges  his  responsibility  to  God.  Yet, 
imperfect  as  it  is,  it  is  far  above  the  actual  at- 


LEISURE    TIME. 


tainments  of  the  majority  of  young  men,  and  a 
wonderful  improvement  in  society  would  take 
place  if  they  could  be  elevated  even  to  this  point. 

But  the  more  important  remark  to  be  made 
at  present  is  this :  That  the  result  of  such  a 
course  of  life,  followed  through  a  series  of 
eight  or  ten  years,  would  be  to  elevate  those 
who  follow  it  in  their  own  self-respect  and  in 
the  respect  of  the  community.  They  would, 
from  year  to  year,  become  more  intelligent, 
more  thoughtful  and  better  men.  They  would 
be  removed  further  and  further  from  the  influ- 
ences of  vice ;  and  would  appear  more  and 
more  as  the  friends  of  virtue. 

Compare  them,  at  the  end  of  ten  years,  with 
that  class  of  young  men  whom  we  described 
a  few  minutes  ago.  In  the  beginning  of  their 
career  a  careless  observer  would  not  have  seen 
the  difference  in  the  direction  they  were  tak- 
ing. But  the  two  roads  which  lie  almost  to- 
gether at  first,  rapidly  diverge  from  each  other, 
until  it  appears  that  one  of  them  has  led  to 
worthlessness  and  infamy,  and  the  other  to 
usefulness  and  virtue. 


72  LEISURE    TIME. 

And  wherein  has  the  difference  consisted? 
Simply  in  the  different  use  of  leisure  time,  in 
the  different  manner  in  which  the  evening  and 
the  Sunday  have  been  passed.  It  is  the  dif- 
ference between  two  or  three  hours  a  day  well 
spent  and  the  same  time  wasted.  The  whole 
problem  of  life  has  been  settled  by  those  few 
hours,  which  are  generally  thought  of  no  im- 
portance, and  which  young  men  are  apt  to  feel 
may  be  thrown  away  whenever  they  please. 

The  most  obvious,  and  perhaps  the  most 
important  means  of  self-improvement,  is  read- 
ing. Books  are  food  to  the  mind.  Well-se- 
lected books,  like  wholesome  food,  impart 
strength  and  vigor,  and  bring  the  mind  to  its 
full  growth.  But  as  all  food  is  not  whole- 
some, and  we  may  use  that  which  is  poison- 
ous or  hurtful,  so  there  is  a  great  deal  of  read- 
ing which  is  poisonous  and  hurtful  to  the 
rnind. 

We  would  not  condemn  all  fictitious  works 
as  belonging  to  this  class.  The  taste  for  such 
writings,  whether  in  prose  or  poetry,  is  as  nat- 
ural to  us  as  any  other  intellectual  tendency. 


LEISURE    TIME.  73 

Particularly  wnen  we  are  young,  they  are  re- 
ceived with  a  relish  that  no  other  books  can 
impart.  A  great  deal  of  the  instruction  that 
we  receive  conies  in  this  form  ;  and  although 
we  may  admit  that  this  mode  of  making  study 
attractive  and  learning  easy  has  been  carried 
much  too  far,  we  should  be  quite  unwise  to 
reject  it  altogether. 

I  cannot  help  saying,  however,  although  it  / 
is  only  by  the  way,  that  the  inordinate  love  of  j 
novel-reading  which  marks  this  generation  1 
probably  proceeds  from  the  multiplication  of 
juvenile  books  of  fiction,  of  which  our  Sunday 
schools  and  day  schools  are  full.  One  would 
think,  to  look  at  them,  that  there  is  no  way  of 
inculcating  a  good  moral,  except  by  clothing 
it  in  a  fictitious  tale  of  love  and  danger. 
Books  of  instruction  are  scarcely  put  into  the 
hands  of  the  young,  unless  they  are  first  dis- 
guised. Then,  like  the  sugar-covered  medicine, 
they  are  taken  ;  but  unfortunately,  by  a  per- 
verse mental  digestion,  the  medicinal  proper- 
ties are  too  often  rejected  and  the  sugar  alone 
retained.  Even  arithmetic  and  geography  are 


74 


LEISURE    TIME. 


made  to  undergo  a  diluting  and  disguising 
process,  so  as  to  save  the  young,  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, from  all  exertion  of  thought.  It  is  not 
surprising  that  children  educated  in  this  way 
refuse  to  read,  as  they  grow  older,  except 
under  the  same  condition  of  being  amused 
These  remarks,  however,  are  leading  me  away 
from  my  present  subject. 

We  do  not  condemn  the  reading  of  fiction, 
as  being  in  itself  wrong  or  hurtful.  Many 
books  which  come  under  this  class  may  be 
read,  not  only  with  safety,  but  with  profit,  by 
almost  any  one.  The  danger  arises  in  such 
reading,  first,  from  its  engrossing  too  much  of 
our  time,  and  secondly,  from  a  bad  selection 
of  the  books  read. 

No  one  need  expect  to  become  a  wise  or 
well-educated  man  by  novel-reading  As  giv- 
ing rest  or  recreation  to  the  mind  it  is  very 
well,  but  not  for  substance  of  thought  and 
maturity  of  intellect. 

One  might  as  well  expect  to  gain  strength 
to  his  body  from  sweetmeats  and  confection- 
ery, as  for  his  mind  from  works  of  fiction 


LEISURE    TIME.  75 

The  very  best  of  them  should  be  used  as  an 
occasional  refreshment;  considered  as  the  dai- 
ly food,  they  are  absolutely  pernicious.  The 
young  person  who  becomes  a  confirmed  novel- 
reader,  with  a  work  of  fiction  always  on  hand, 
undergoes  a  process  of  mental  deterioration 
more  rapidly  than  he  is  aware.  You  might 
as  well  expect  to  make  a  person  religious,  by 
the  pitiful  dilutions  of  Christianity  which  ap- 
pear under  the  head  of  religious  novels  at  the 
present  day,  as  to  educate  yourselves  by  his- 
torical romances, —  from  Waverley  down  to 
the  latest  of  the  fruitful  brain  of  James.  He 
who  is  seeking  for  self-improvement  will  read 
them  sparingly. 

So  much  may  be  said  even  of  the  better 
class  of  fiction.  But  what  shall  we  say  of 
that,  whose  very  touch  is  defilement?  which 
we  compliment  if  we  only  call  it  trash,  and 
with  which  to  become  acquainted  is  to  bid 
farewell  to  all  purity  of  thought  and  all  refine- 
ment of  feeling?  It  would  be  better  not  to 
know  how  to  read,  than  to  read  it.  He  who 
holds  it  in  his  hand  is  proclaiming  his  own 


76  LEISURE    TIME. 

vu  garity  of  taste,  and  is  doing  openly  that 
which  he  should  be  ashamed  to  do  in  secret. 
I  do  not  fear  to  speak  too  strongly.  I  have 
not  read,  if  it  were  all  told,  a  hundred  pages 
of  such  literature  in  my  life  ;  yet  I  feel  that 
even  in  that  a  serious  mistake  was  com- 
mitted, and  it  would  have  been  far  better  not 
to  have  seen  it.  As  iron-rust  upon  the  hand, 
which  stays  there  until  it  wears  off,  so  is  an 
impure  thought  suggested  to  the  mind,  or  a 
vile  picture  painted  upon  the  imagination. 
We  would  implore  the  young  to  keep  their 
hands  off  from  such  books,  and  to  turn  their 
minds  away  from  the  pollution  which  such 
books  bring.  If  you  have  already  learned  to 
enjoy  reading  them,  you  have  reason  to  trem- 
ble for  your  safety.  For  he  who  relishes  the 
record  of  that  which  is  vile,  is  almost  prepared, 
himself,  to  be  guilty  of  the  same  vileness. 

To  form  a  more  correct  taste  in  reading  is 
by  no  means  difficult.  At  first  it  may  require 
some  effort,  but,  like  every  other  habit,  soon 
becomes  easy  and  pleasant.  Biography,  his- 
tory, the  higher  departments  of  polite  litera- 


LEISURE    TIME.  77 

ture,  works  of  art  and  science,  are  within  ev- 
ery one's  reach.  At  first  they  may  seem  less 
attractive  than  the  light  and  flashy  reading, 
for  which  they  are  so  much  neglected  ;  but  in 
a  little  while  they  become  far  more  interest- 
ing, and  with  every  page  you  read,  you  feel 
that  you  are  taking  a  step  in  knowledge  and 
refinement.  They  may  not  come  under  the 
head  of  amusement, .and  it  is  not  as  such  that 
I  would  recommend  them,  but  experience  will 
prove  to  you  that  they  supply  healthy  recrea- 
tion to  the  mind  and  prepare  it  for  the  return- 
ing duties  of  the  next  day,  far  better  than 
books  which  produce  an  unhealthy  excitement, 
or  pleasures  by  which  the  body  has  been  fa- 
tigued and  the  mind  exhausted.  It  is  not  as 
amusement  that  we  recommend  them,  but  as 
a  study,  and  as  a  means  of  self-education. 
Time  enough  for  amusement  may  be  found 
beside.  Can  we  not  spare  one  or  two  hours  a 
day,  if  not  as  a  pleasure,  then  as  a  duty,  in 
preparing  ourselves  for  the  real  work  of  life, 
for  doing  our  part  as  men  and  as  Christians 
in  society.  In  an  age  like  this,  where  knowl- 


78  LEISURE    TIME. 

edge  is  almost  in  the  atmosphere  we  breathe 
can  we  content  ourselves  with  ignorance  ?  In 
a  country  where  a  good  education  is  an  essen- 
tial requisite  to  respectability  and  in  which 
vulgar-minded  and  uninformed  men  find  it  ev- 
ery day  harder  to  rise,  shall  we  refuse  to  make 
the  needful  exertion  to  educate  ourselves,  so 
as  to  deserve  respect  and  to  command  influ- 
ence ?  If  I  am  speaking  to  those  who  are  in- 
different to  such  things,  my  words  will  be  in 
vain  ;  but  if  you  desire  them,  if  you  wish  to 
deserve  respect,  if  you  wish  to  obtain  influ- 
ence, if  you  wish  to  become  useful  by  the  best 
exertion  of  your  faculties,  then  you  will  be 
ready  to  take  some  pains  in  its  accomplish- 
ment. You  will  not  expect  so  great  a  result 
without  systematic  and  long-continued  effort. 

Let  me  therefore  advise  you,  as  your  friend, 
to  use  a  part  of  every  day  for  careful  and  stu- 
dious reading.  Begin,  if  you  please,  with  one 
hour,  or  even  with  less,  but  let  it  be  done  as  a 
duty.  It  will  bring  its  enjoyment,  but  let  it 
be  done  as  a  duty. 

Let  your  first  aim  be  to  supply  the  deficien- 


LEISURE    TIME. 


79 


cies  )f  early  education.  Do  not  smile  at  the 
suggestion  of  a  grammar  and  dictionary.  I 
know  business  men  who  cannot  tell  where  the 
places  with  which  they  trade  are  situated,  and 
who  cannot  write  a  commercial  letter  without 
violations  both  of  good  grammar  and  correct 
spelling.  It  would  be  no  disgrace  to  them,  I 
think,  to  have  Murray  and  Webster  within 
reach.  To  a  shallow  mind  this  may  seem 
boy's  work,  but  if  you  will  read  the  lives  of 
the  most  eminent  scholars,  you  will  find  that 
they  are  always  learners.  The  best  educated 
man  must  frequently  return  to  the  rudiments 
of  knowledge,  to  see  that  the  foundation  is 
well  laid.  How  much  more  is  such  a  course 
needful  to  those  who  have  never  gone  beyond 
a  common  school  education,  and  to  whom 
even  that  was  very  imperfect. 

Such  is  the  case  with  the  great  majority  of 
young  men  who  enter  upon  business.  They 
are  not  beyond  the  necessity  of  schooling. 
They  need  elementary  instruction.  They  are 
uninformed  upon  subjects  upon  which  contin- 
ued ignorance  is  inexcusable.  They  are  not  to 


80  LEISURE    TIME. 

blame  for  this ;  but  they  are  to  blame  if  they 
take  no  pains  to  supply  the  acknowledged  de 
ficiency.  There  is  no  necessity  for  their  re- 
maining ignorant  or  uneducated.  Nay,  there 
is  no  excuse  for  it.  The  means  of  self-educa- 
tion are  within  reach  of  all,  not  only  books, 
but  teachers,  if  need  be,  and  the  only  thing 
wanting  is  sufficient  resolution  and  industry 
to  use  them. 

As  to  the  choice  of  books  and  the  course  of 
reading  to  be  followed  by  each  one,  no  gen- 
eral rule  can  be  given.  This  must  depend 
upon  the  taste  and  previous  education  of  each 
individual.  But  every  young  man  should 
have  some  method,  both  in  the  choice  of 
books  and  in  using  them.  Beside  his  lighter 
reading,  which  is  partly  for  amusement's  sake, 
let  him  always  have  some  one  book,  at  least, 
or  some  one  branch  of  study,  to  which  his 
careful  attention  is  every  day  directed.  He 
will  reap  from  this  a  double  benefit;  first,  in 
his  direct  improvement,  in  the  discipline  of  his 
mind  and  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge ; 
and  secondly,  by  the  employment  of  time 


LEISURE   TIME.  8J 

which  might  otherwise  hang  heavily  upon  his 
hands  or  be  devoted  to  idle  amusements, 
which  lead  to  worse  than  idle  results.  He 
would  also  find  himself,  by  such  a  course,  re- 
moved from  the  worst  temptations  to  which 
the  young  are  exposed.  Bad  companionship 
in  idle  hours  is  the  common  way  to  ruiri.  But 
he  who  is  daily  elevating  his  mind,  by  reading 
and  study,  will  soon  lose  the  taste  for  such 
companionship.  He  will  find  no  pleasure  in 
vulgarity  or  dissipation,  and  no  sympathy  with 
those  who  are  guilty  of  them.  He  will  avoid 
the  bar-room  and  gambling-table,  as  much 
through  good  taste  as  through  good  principle. 
He  will  therefore  at  the  same  time  feel  less 
temptation  to  do  wrong  and  find  greater  en- 
joyment in  doing  right. 

To  secure  this  result,  however,  he  must  add 
to  his  daily  reading  one  book,  which  by  many 
is  thought  old-fashioned,  but  which  is  not  yet, 
thank  God,  out  of  print.  It  is  the  cheapest 
book  in  the  world,  and  from  whatever  point 
of  view  we  regard  it,  the  best.  It  is  the  book> 
the  Bible.  Considered  as  history,  it  is  the  old- 
6 


C«  LEISURE    TIME. 

est  and  best  authenticated ;  considered  as  po- 
etry, it  is  the  noblest,  the  most  original  and 
exalted ;  considered  as  a  system  of  morality, 
it  is  absolutely  perfect;  considered  as  religion, 
it  is  sufficient  both  for  time  and  eternity. 

Set  aside,  if  you  please,  all  thought  of  its 
divine  authority,  and  regard  it  as  you  do  other 
books,  according  to  its  intrinsic  worth,  and 
you  will  find  that  it  deserves  frequent  perusal 
and  careful  study.  Yet  I  fear  that  many  per- 
sons have  almost  no  acquaintance  with  it,  ex- 
cept that  which  comes  from  the  dim  recollec- 
tions of  childhood.  Its  very  sanctity  repels 
them.  But  if  they  do  not  read  it  as  the  rev- 
elations of  God  and  as  a  religious  duty,  it 
should  be  read  for  its  own  sake. 

The  book  of  Proverbs  contains  enough  prac- 
tical wisdom  to  carry  any  man  successfully 
through  the  world.  Seneca  and  Franklin  can- 
not be  read  with  one  half  the  profit,  even  with 
egard  to  the  conduct  of  this  life  alone.  The 
young  man  who  reads  a  chapter  of  it  every 
day,  will  find  that  folly  and  sin  become  an  up- 
hill business.  The  book  of  Job  is  a  key  to  the 


LEISURE    TIME. 


83 


mysteries  of  Providence,  as  we  see  them  all 
around  us.  The  Prophecies,  although  ob- 
scure and  difficult,  fill  the  mind  with  pictures 
of  heavenly  glory  and  reveal  to  us  the  judg- 
ments of  God. 

But  above  all,  the  New  Testament,  to  those 
who  know  how  to  prize  simplicity  of  style  and 
grandeur  of  thought,  is  an  inexhaustible  fund 
of  instruction  and  delight.  The  character  of 
Jesus  Christ,  if  we  could  regard  it  simply  as  a 
historical  fact,  apart  from  its  religious  bear- 
ing, is  worthy  of  never-ending  study.  It  is 
the  only  perfect  character  ever  delineated.  If 
it  were  a  fiction  it  would  be  wonderful ;  being 
true,  it  is  miraculous.  His  words  come  to  us, 
as  a  breathing  from  heaven.  His  life  opens 
to  us  an  acquaintance  with  heavenly  exist- 
ence. 

Yet  I  believe,  that,  with  the  exception  of 
those  who  have  been  led  by  religious  experi- 
ence to  place  their  hopes  of  eternal  life  in  the 
Gospel,  there  is  no  book  which  is  estimated 
so  far  below  its  real  and  intrinsic  merits  as  the 
Bible.  I  commend  it  to  your  reading,  if  not 


84  LEISURE    TIME. 

as  a  religious  duty,  as  a  means  of  self-educa- 
tion, for  the  refinement  of  your  taste  and  for 
the  general  elevation  of  your  character. 

But  consider  it  as  a  religious  duty,  and  it 
still  belongs  to  the  work  of  self-education. 
He  who  hopes  to  attain  the  full  development 
of  his  mind  or  true  manliness  of  character, 
without  religious  principle,  is  under  a  mistake. 
Knowledge  is  very  important;  but  one  sin 
will  degrade  you  more  than  a  great  deal  of 
ignorance.  Sobriety,  chastity,  purity,  and 
truth  are  elements  of  growth  to  the  mind,  not 
less  than  to  the  heart.  They  ennoble  a  man 
in  this  world,  while  they  prepare  him  for  the 
future  ;  and  these  are  the  virtues  which  relig- 
ion inculcates.  It  exalts  us  above  all  corrupt- 
ing and  impure  associations,  and  therefore,  if 
considered  only  as  a  means  of  self-improve- 
ment in  the  present  time,  it  should  never  be 
neglected.  The  irreligious  man  is  in  danger 
of  becoming  a  low-minded  and  selfish  man, 
even  if  he  avoids  being  wicked. 

But  I  would  not  rest  the  cause  of  religion 
here.  Not  for  a  moment  would  I  leave  it 


LEISURE   TIME.  85 

upon  so  low  a  ground.  It  appeals  to  us  and 
belongs  to  us,  as  immortal  beings.  It  com- 
mands us  to  make  the  most  of  ourselves  here, 
in  mind,  in  heart,  and  in  life,  because  we  must 
soon  pass  from  Time  to  Eternity,  carrying 
with  us  the  result  of  our  conduct  here.  In 
such  a  view,  how  completely  worthless  do  all 
earthly  considerations  seem  ?  What  matter 
whether  we  are  rich  or  poor,  learned  or  igno- 
rant, so  that  we  are  rich  in  good  works  and 
wise  unto  salvation  ? 

But  a  part  of  our  duty  towards  God  is  to 
improve  the  talents  committed  to  us,  for  the 
promotion  of  his  glory  and  for  usefulness 
among  men.  Infuse,  therefore,  into  all  your 
efforts  for  self-improvement  a  relig:ous  spirit. 
This  will  bestow  dignity  upon  the  employ- 
ment, it  will  give  steadfastness  to  your  pur- 
pose and  crown  your  efforts  with  success. 


LECTURE    IV. 


TRANSGRESSION. 

"  Enter  not  into  the  path  of  the  wicked,  and  go  not  fa.  th*  ny  *T  evil 
men.  Avoid  it,  pass  not  by  it,  turn  from  it,  and  pass  iwt  >  "  -Proy. 
iv  14,15. 

NOT  long  ago,  perhaps  a  year  or  more,  I 
was  accosted  in  the  street  by  a  man,  whom  at 
first  I  did  not  fully  recognize.  His  voice,  how- 
ever, recalled  him  to  my  mind.  I  had  not 
seen  him  for  nearly  two  years,  although  we 
had  both  been  living  in  the  same  city  during 
all  that  time,  and  we  had  formerly  been  upon 
terms  of  intimate  friendship.  His  hand  was 
cold  and  tremulous  ;  he  was  not  intoxicated, 
but  his  step  was  unsteady,  like  that  of  an  old 
man,  and  his  form  slightly  bowed,  as  if  under 
the  weight  of  threescore  years.  His  features 
were  bloated^  his  eye  dull  and  unsettled.  He 
seemed  unable  to  look  stead:'ly  upon  any  ob- 


TRANSGRESSION.  87 

ject,  and  the  expression  of  his  face  was  like 
that  of  one  suffering  under  some  heavy  care  or 
some  great  disappointment  that  he  was  de- 
sirous to  conceal.  There  was  an  effort  to  as- 
sume a  hearty  and  cordial  manner,  and  the 
grasp  of  the  hand  and  the  first  words  of  greet- 
ing seemed  like  his  manner  of  ten  years  be- 
fore. But  it  was  an  effort  that  could  not  long 
be  sustained.  Assumed  indifference  and  the 
evident  sense  of  real  mortification  soon  took 
its  place.  His  dress  was  shabby  and  careless- 
ly worn,  showing  that  the  world  had  not  dealt 
kindly  with  him.  He  seemed  glad  to  see  me, 
shook  my  hand  again  and  again,  as  if  he  had 
forgotten  each  time  that  he  had  done  it  be- 
fore ;  promised  to  come  to  my  house,  which, 
however,  he  evidently  did  not  intend  to  do ; 
asked  me  to  visit  him,  but  although  I  prom- 
ised it,  he  evidently  supposed  it  would  never 
be  done,  and  seemed  greatly  relieved  when  the 
interview  was  ended.  And  so  was  I.  But  it 
left  matter  upon  my  mind  which  occupied  me 
many  hours  after.  His  form  kept  coming 
back  to  me,  an  unbidden  presence,  reproach- 


88  TRANSGRESSION. 

ing  me  that  I  had  not  done  more  to  save  him 
from  that  sad  condition.  A  few  days  after- 
ward I  went  to  see  him  at  his  room,  and  tried 
to  renew  our  old  acquaintance.  I  spoke  to 
him  earnestly  and  plainly,  as  I  had  often  done 
before,  and  he  promised,  with  tears  in  his  eyes, 
that  he  would  reform.  Only  a  week  after- 
ward I  again  met  him  in  the  street,  so  intoxi- 
cated that  he  did  not  know  me.  And  when 
two  or  three  months  had  passed,  I  was  called 
one  day  to  see  him  on  his  dying  bed,  and  then 
to  follow  him  to  an  unhonored  grave. 

Was  this  the  end  to  which  he  looked  for- 
ward, when  he  first  came  to  this  city  ?  Was 
this  the  natural  and  right  conclusion  of  a  youth 
full  of  promise,  of  a  manhood  which  began 
with  bright  hopes  and  sanguine  expectations  ? 
If,  on  the  day  when  he  left  his  father's  house, 
"  a  younger  son  to  go  into  a  far  country,"  the 
dream  of  such  a  future  had  visited  him,  —  the 
vision  of  a  premature  old  age,  of  years  spent 
friendless  and  despised,  of  the  death-bed  in 
an  alms-h  Difse  and  the  burial  at  public  charge, 
• — if  such  a  vision  had  come  to  him  when  he 


TRANSGRESSION.  89 

received  his  mother's  blessing,  or  to  ner  when 
she  gave  it,  it  would  have  been  better  for  them 
both  to  be  stricken  down  by  the  hand  of  death, 
than  to  look  upon  it.  Yet  the  reality  came, 
and  that  which  would  have  been  too  fearful  to 
think  of  became  the  history  of  his  life. 

And  how  did  it  come  ?  By  what  avenues 
did  the  tempter  find  entrance  into  a  heart  rich 
in  good  affections,  into  a  mind  well  stored 
with  good  and  pious  thoughts  ?  I  remember 
him  now  as  he  was,  sixteen  years  ago,  when 
he  first  came  to  this  city.  Among  all  whom 
I  knew,  I  could  not,  perhaps,  have  selected  one 
whose  life  seemed  to  give  a  more  certain  prom- 
ise of  an  honorable  and  useful  career.  The 
glow  of  health  was  upon  his  cheek,  his  eye 
sparkled  with  the  vigor  of  intelligence,  his  step 
was  firm,  his  whole  manner  was  that  of  one 
who  had  resolved  to  do  a  man's  work  man- 
fully. He  was  then  but  little  more  than  twen- 
ty years  of  age,  fresh  from  all  the  good  influ- 
ences of  a  Christian  home  in  a  quiet  Christian 
community,  unstained  by  the  world's  corrup- 
tions, ignorant  of  life's  temptations.  But  his 


90  TRANSGRESSION. 

resolutions  were  so  strong  and  his  opportuni- 
ties so  good,  that  there  seemed  as  little  danger 
for  him  as  for  any  one.  How  terrible  the 
change  that  fifteen  years  produced. 

If  I  could  trace  that  progress,  step  by  step, 
—  if  I  could  show  how  it  was  that  his  virtu- 
ous resolutions  began  to  yield,  and  the  stain 
of  corruption  to  spread  upon  his  soul,  it  would 
be  an  instructive,  although  a  sad  narration. 
But  the  heart  knoweth  its  own  bitterness. 
We  cannot  enter  into  the  hidden  experience 
one  of  another.  We  cannot  tell  how  the 
temptation  comes,  even  to  ourselves,  and  we 
often  fail  to  recognize  its  presence  until  we 
have  yielded  to  its  power.  The  influences  of 
evil  are  working  in  the  heart,  long  before  they 
come  to  outward  observation.  When  we  be- 
gin to  see  them,  the  ruin  is  too  often  already 
accomplished. 

With  regard  to  him  of  whom  I  have  now 
spoken,  I  did  not  know  when  his  steps  began 
upon  the  downward  road.  He  seemed  to  be 
prospering  in  business,  for  the  first  two  or 
three  years  was  found  only  in  good  company, 


TRANSGRESSION  91 

and  was  evidently  taking  his  place  among 
men  as  a  good  and  useful  citizen.  I  have 
since  thought,  that  perhaps  his  progress  was 
so  much  more  rapid  than  he  had  anticipated, 
and  the  position  he  held  so  much  higher,  that 
he  was  deceived  into  a  false  security.  Per- 
haps he  thought  himself  already  removed  from 
danger,  and  that  he  might  safely  yield  to 
temptation,  a  little  way,  without  fear  of  fall- 
ing. Soon  after,  some  reverses  in  business 
occurred  which  slightly  embarrassed  him,  and 
some  disappointments  in  social  life  which 
soured  his  disposition.  The  habit  of  occa- 
sional conviviality,  formed  in  the  time  of  pros- 
perity, now  brought  a  feeling  of  relief  and 
daily  became  stronger.  His  place  at  church 
was  more  frequently  left  vacant,  and  his  place 
at  the  bar-room  more  frequently  filled.  He 
was  not  himself  aware  of  any  danger,  until, 
his  business  suffering  more  and  more,  he  be- 
gan to  perceive  that  friends  were  falling  away 
from  him.  Partly  by  the  sense  of  shame,  and 
partly  by  the  feeling  that  he  was  unjustly  dealt 
with,  he  was  led  to  acquaintance  with  those 


TRANSGRESSION. 


who  were,  in  character  and  social  position,  far 
beneath  him.  Their  influence  upon  him  was 
in  every  way  bad.  Some  of  them  were  tlm-e 
determined  drinkers,  those  veterans  in  the 
ranks  of  intemperance,  who  are  scarcely  ever 
intoxicated,  yet  never  sober,  and  who  care  very 
little  how  many  others  fall  over  the  precipice, 
while  they  themselves  remain  in  comparative 
safety.  Under  their  influence  his  decline  was 
rapid,  and  soon  ended  in  vain  tears  of  repent- 
ance, in  sadness  and  despair. 

It  is  a  common  story  ;  a  thing  of  every 
day's  occurrence.  Since  I  began  to  speak,  if 
you  have  asked  yourselves  whose  history  it  is, 
if  you  have  tried  to  remember  some  one  to 
whom  it  would  apply,  you  have  probably 
thought  of  many  whose  career,  although  not 
identically  the  same,  has  been  equally  sad. 

Perhaps  none  of  those  whom  I  address 
know  any  thing  of  the  person  to  whom  I  have 
referred  ;  for  the  record  of  his  name  and  of  his 
burial-place  has  already  passed  from  mem- 
ory. But  similar  instances  you  have  all 
known,  or  may  see  every  day  going  on  to- 


TRANSGRESSION.  93 

wards  the  fatal,  the  inevitable  conclusion.  In 
conversation  with  a  friend  a  few  days  since, 
who  is  himself  still  a  young  man,  he  informed 
me  that  more  than  half  of  the  companions 
with  whom  he  began  his  active  life,  ten  or 
twelve  years  since,  have  already  come  to  a 
disgraceful  death  or  to  a  dishonored  and 
worthless  life.  Is  it  not  dreadful  to  think  of 
such  things  ?  Is  it  not  enough  to  frighten  a 
young  man  from  his  self-confident  security,  to 
see  how  many  of  those  who  have  gone  before 
him,  in  the  very  same  path,  have  fallen  never 
to  rise  again  ?  Has  he  a  safe-conduct  from 
some  higher  power,  by  virtue  of  which  he  may 
go  to  the  brink  of  ruin  and  return  uninjured  ? 
Is  it  the  mark  of  wisdom  to  risk  every  thing 
that  makes  life  dear,  health  and  friends,  honor 
and  usefulness,  virtue  and  religion,  self-respect 
and  the  favor  of  God,  for  the  sake  of  those 
vulgar  but  enticing  pleasures  by  which  the 
young  are  so  often  betrayed  ?  There  is  a 
warfare  in  which  discretion  is  the  better  part 
of  valor.  Even  if  we  gain  the  victory,  we 
return  without  honor  and  without  praise, 


94  TRANSGRESSION. 

"  Therefore  enter  not  into  the  path  of  the 
wicked,  and  go  not  in  the  way  of  evil  men  ; 
avoid  it,  pass  not  by  it,  turn  from  it,  and  pass 
away." 

The  paths  which  lead  to  ruin,  although  they 

'gradually  converge  and  become  the  broad  and 

I  fatal  "  way  that  leadeth  to  destruction,"  are  at 

I  first  very  various.     The  first  departures  from 

{  virtue  are  very  slight,  the  first  habits  of  sin 

seem    to    be    in   themselves    scarcely   sinful. 

There  is  some  pleasant  name  by  which  they 

^  are  called,  some  plausible   excuse  by  which 

they  are  allowed.     But  by  a  little  pains,  we 

can  mark  the   principal  stages  by  which  the 

1  downward  progress  is  generally  made. 

First  of  all  is  the  INTOXICATING  CUP.  With 
ninety-nine  in  a  hundred,  that  is  the  beginning 
whose  end  is  death.  Those  who  begin  with 
the  strict  rule  of  temperance,  and  adhere  to  it, 
seldom  throw  themselves  away  in  sinful  pur- 
suits. Generally  speaking,  if  the  young  man 
can  secure  himself  in  this  bulwark  of  safety, 
all  the  enemies  of  his  soul  will  be  successfully 
resisted.  His  passions  will  remain  under  his 


TRANSGRESSION.  95 

own  control,  unless  they  are  heated  by  wine, 
and  his  eye  clear  to  see  the  things  which  are 
for  his  own  good,  unless  clouded  by  the  fumes 
of  strong  drink.     But   when  he  has    put   an  \ 
enemy  within  his    mouth  to   steal   away  his    ' 
brains,   influences   which   a    child    should    be   / 
strong  enough  to  resist  become  too  strong  for   ^ 
him,  and  he  yields  both  body  and  soul  to  their 
power.     He  may  think  that  it  is  very  little  he 
has  taken,  but  a  very  little  is  enough  to  ob- 
scure the  judgment  of  a  young  head  and  to 
pervert  the  desires  of  youthful  blood.     He  may 
imagine  that  he  was  never  more  perfectly  him- 
self, his  thoughts  may  seem  to  him  more  than 
usually  clear,  his  step  may  have  strength  and 
buoyancy,  there  is  just  enough  pleasant  ex- 
citement to  make  his  heart  glad ;   but  in  all 
this  he  is  prepared  to  say  and  do  things  from 
which   perfect  sobriety   would  shrink,  and  of 
which  the  soberness  of  to-morrow's   thought   /' 
will  be  ashamed. 

Young  men !  I  would  warn  you  from  that 
sparkling  cup,  —  not  only  because  it  is  a  first 
step,  which  may  lead  you,  as  it  has  led,  this 


96  TRANSGRESSION. 

very  year  now  drawing  to  a  close,  fifty  thou- 
sand in  our  own  country,  to  a  drunkard's 
grave,  —  but  I  warn  you  from  it,  because  even 
from  the  very  first  it  opens  all  the  avenues  of 
your  heart  to  the  temptations  under  which  sin 
is  committed.  There  is  scarcely  a  sin  against 
which  you  need  a  warning,  so  long  as  the 
blood  flows  equally  in  healthy  channels ;  but 
when  it  is  quickened  by  the  liquid  fire,  the 
power  of  temptation  is  increased,  while  the 
strength  to  resist  it  is  lessened.  Sin  puts  on 
allurements  which  do  not  belong  to  it,  and  by 
which  its  deformity  is  concealed.  The  quiet 
pleasures  of  a  virtuous  life  appear  tame  in 
comparison,  and  the  disordered  imagination 
fills  the  chambers  of  guilt  with  illusions  of 
beauty,  which  the  experience  of  guilt  will  soon 
destroy. 

If  it  were,  therefore,  certain  that  you  could 
indulge  yourselves  with  safety,  so  far  as  the 
danger  of  intemperance  is  concerned,  you 
would  be  exposing  yourselves  to  other  dangers 
equally  as  great.  I  appeal  to  you  if  this  is 
not  true.  I  ask  you  if  you  have  not  already 


TRANSGRESSION.  97 

gone  far  enough  to  know  its  truth  ?  Let  it  be 
granted  that  it  is  impossible  for  you  ever  to 
become  a  drunkard  ;  have  you  not  already  ex- 
perienced that  by  the  daily  or  occasional  use 
of  intoxicating  drink  you  expose  yourselves 
to  many  bad  influences,  from  which  you 
would  otherwise  escape,  and  commit  many 
sins  both  in  word  and  deed,  which  you  would 
otherwise  avoid  ?  From  what  cause  come 
wasted  time  and  low  companionship  ?  What 
is  it  that  betrays  you  into  extravagance  and 
foolish  debt?  By  what  means  did  you  fall  so 
easily  into  Sabbath-breaking  and  profanity  ? 
How  did  you  learn  to  speak  so  lightly  of  re- 
ligion and  to  laugh  at  the  scruples  of  virtue  ? 
What  influence  has  brought  the  sacredness  of 
female  innocence  into  contempt?  and  how  has 
it  come  to  pass  that,  instead  of  the  nobler 
ambition  of  your  early  days,  you  are  now  so 
eager  for  pleasure,  so  greedy  for  excitement? 
Can  you  tell  me  ?  Have  you  thought  of  this  ? 
You  feel  very  sure  that  you  will  never  be  a 
drunkard ;  but  are  you  equally  sure  that  the 
foundation  of  your  virtue  is  not  already  sapped, 
7 


98  TRANSGRESSION. 

that  the  springs  of  your  moral  and  relig- 
ious life  are  not  already  corrupted?  Make 
the  trial.  Begin  this  day  and  continue  for 
twelve  months  the  plan  of  strict,  absolute  tem- 
perance, and  you  will  be  astonished  to  find 
how  greatly  the  change  of  that  one  habit  wil 
change  the  tenor  of  your  whole  lives.  You 
will  have  more  time  to  yourselves;  you  will 
feel  a  greater  desire  of  improvement ;  the  de- 
formity of  vice  will  appear  more  plainly,  and 
the  excellence  of  virtue  ;  your  nobler  ambition 
to  be  a  useful  and  honored  man  will  return  ; 
and  before  many  months  have  passed,  you  will 
be  astonished  to  see  how  far  upon  the  road  to 
ruin  you  had  gone,  and  how  difficult  it  is,  even 
now,  to  retrace  your  steps.  If  you  doubt  my 
words,  make  a  trial  of  them  for  your  own  sake. 
It  can  certainly  do  you  no  harm,  and  if  at  the 
end  of  twelve  months  you  find  that  you  are 
neither  better  nor  wiser  for  the  experiment,  it 
will  be  easy  to  abandon  it.  But  you  will  not 
find  it  so.  Make  the  experiment  for  twelve 
months,  and  if  you  are  capable  of  learning 
from  experience,  you  will  hold  to  it  till  the  end 
of  life. 


TRANSGRESSION.  99 

This  view  of  the  subject  is  very  important 
and  needs  to  be  carefully  considered.  Young 
men  are  every  day  ruined  from  the  want  of 
perceiving  it.  They  convince  themselves,  as 
there  is  no  difficulty  in  doing,  that  there  is  no 
danger  of  their  ever  becoming  drunkards  ;  and 
having  done  this,  they  excuse  themselves  in 
the  habit  of  daily  drinking,  as  if  no  other  harm 
could  come  from  it.  A  great  and  fatal  mis- 
take. From  the  very  beginning  it  does  harm. 
If  it  is  only  an  occasional  glass,  if  it  is  only 
the  glow  upon  the  cheek  and  the  quickened 
pulse,  produced  by  indulgence  in  wine  at  the 
supper-table  of  a  friend,  it  is  a  wrong  done,  an 
injury  inflicted.  The  perceptions  of  virtue  are 
made  dull,  the  rebukes  of  a  tender  conscience 
are  silenced  by  such  a  habit  from  the  very 
first.  When  the  hour  of  perfect  sobriety 
comes,  the  young  man  blushes  to  remember 
the  words  spoken  and  the  acts  of  freedom  of 
which  he  was  guilty  the  night  before.  Con- 
sider this,  I  beg  of  you,  and  as  you  prize  an 
unsullied  conscience,  let  not  the  cup  of  intoxi- 
cation come  near  your  lips. 


100  TRANSGRESSION. 

But  how  do  you  know  that  you  are  so  safe? 
How  do  you  know  that  you  can  walk  in  the 
path  which  leads  to  intemperance  and  yet 
never  reach  its  end?  Who  gave  you  that 
safe-conduct,  by  power  of  which  you  may  go 
to  the  brink  of  ruin,  and  looking  over  gaze  into 
that  fiery  gulf  and  then  return  uninjured?  Un- 
injured, you  cannot  return.  That  is  impossi- 
ble. But  how  do  you  know  that  you  will  re- 
turn at  all  ?  Is  it  because  you  are  so  strong, 
—  because  you  are  always  able  to  do  what 
you  say  you  will  do  ?  Men  equally  strong 
have  fallen  and  are  falling  into  that  ruin  every 
day.  Is  it  because  your  motives  to  good  con- 
duct are  so  urgent  on  the  one  side,  and  be- 
cause, on  the  other,  you  care  so  little  for  the 
intoxicating  draught  that  you  are  sure  you  can 
give  it  up  at  any  moment  you  please  ?  It  is 
only  the  delusion  of  Satan.  Trust  not  to  it. 
Your  relish  for  that  hateful  cup  is  becoming 
stronger,  although  you  may  not  know  it.  It 
may  soon  become  so  strong  as  to  be  a  craving 
of  your  nature.  It  will  be  not  only  a  sinful 
habit,  but  a  physical  disease.  Your  resolu- 


TRANSGRESSION.  101 

tions  become  daily  more  weak  and  the  strong 
will  gradually  loses  its  power.  The  motives 
for  good  conduct  may  continue  or  may  grow 
stronger  as  the  danger  increases  ;  but  what  are 
motives,  to  him  whose  feverish  blood  craves 
the  drink  which  has  already  set  him  on  fire  ? 
What  to  him  are  family  and  friends,  or  wife 
and  children,  or  his  own  good  name  and  self- 
respect,  or  health  and  life  itself?  What  to 
him  is  the  hope  of  heaven  or  the  fear  of  hell  ? 
The  drink  which  he  craves  he  must  have,  and 
although  he  hates  it,  "  he  will  seek  it  again." 

Look  at  that  man  whose  dress  betokens  that 
he  is,  or  has  been,  a  gentleman,  and  whose 
manners  show  that  he  is  not  yet  quite  brutal- 
ized. He  staggers  in  the  street,  and  because 
you  have  known  him  in  his  better  days,  you 
take  his  arm,  and,  half  supporting  him,  go  with 
him  towards  his  home.  You  hear  his  maudlin 
talk  and  look  into  his  lack-lustre  eye,  and  won- 
der if  that  can  be  the  same  man  whom  you 
knew  a  few  years  ago  in  the  pride  of  man- 
hood, successful  in  business,  beloved  by  his 
friends,  honored  by  society.  What  motive 


102  TRANSGRESSION. 

was  wanting  to  keep  him  in  the  right  path? 
By  what  compulsion  was  he  driven  to  a  con- 
dition like  this  ?  You  go  on  with  him,  for  it 
is  not  far,  until  you  are  near  his  house ;  the 
effects  of  inebriation  become  stronger ;  he  stag- 
gers so  heavily  that  you  can  scarcely  support 
him,  and  when  he  has  come  to  his  own  door, 
it  is  with  difficulty  he  stands.  The  door  is 
opened,  and  what  is  it  you  then  see  ?  Do  you 
talk  of  motives  now  ?  It  is  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren who  come  forward  to  receive  him.  They 
know  the  whole  truth ;  for  it  has  been  so 
many  times  before.  His  wife  is  still  young 
and  beautiful,  but  you  see  that  her  beauty, 
which  you  remember  as  it  was  a  few  years 
ago,  is  fading  away  under  the  influence  of  a 
wife's  mortification  and  a  mother's  care.  His 
daughter,  already  growing  into  womanhood, 
looks  with  half  wonder  and  half  disgust,  and 
does  what  she  is  bidden  to  do  to  help  her  fa- 
ther. The  younger  children  gather  round,  but 
quickly  see  that  no  caress  is  waiting  for  them 
there.  And  this  is  the  drunkard's  home.  Do 
you  talk  of  motives  now  ?  Do  you  not  see 


TRANSGRESSION.  103 

that  the  habit  of  intemperance  is  like  the  robe 
with  which  Hercules  was  betrayed  to  clothe 
himself,  and  which  he  could  not  tear  off,  be- 
cause it  clung  to  him,  a  burning  and  a  raging 
fire,  until  he  was  dead  ?  It  is  but  an  allegory 
of  drunkenness,  and  the  strong  man  who  sub- 
dues the  Nemean  lion  is  himself  subdued,  the 
victim  of  Intemperance. 

But  let  your  contempt  be  mingled  with  pity 
f  :>r  him  whom  you  left  but  now,  in  his  miser- 
able home.  The  day  has  been  when,  in  the 
very  agony  of  spirit,  he  knelt  down  and  prayed 
to  God,  with  vows  that  seemed  registered  in 
heaven,  and  with  tears  streaming  from  his 
eyes,  while  he  promised  that  he  would  never 
again  yield  to  temptation.  You  would  have 
had  hope  for  him  then ;  but  it  lasted  a  few 
weeks,  and  the  promises  were  broken.  Merci- 
ful God !  who  knowest  the  weakness  of  our 
nature  and  the  deceitfulness  of  our  hearts,  keep 
us  away  from  temptation ;  save  us  from  the 
trials  which  may  be  too  strong  for  our  virtue ! 
Leave  us  not  to  our  own  devices,  but  save  us 
with  a  strong  hand,  and  guide  us  by  thy  Spirit 


104  TRANSGRESSION. 

in  the  way  of  everlasting  life  !  And  thou 
young  man,  trifle  not  with  your  own  soul. 
Pray  that  you  may  not  be  led  into  tempta- 
tion. "  Look  not  thou  upon  the  wine  when 
it  is  red,  when  it  giveth  its  color  in  the  cup, 
when  it  moveth  itself  aright.  At  the  last  it 
biteth  like  a  serpent  and  stingeth  like  an  ad- 
der." 

But  among  those  who  hear  me,  are  there 
not  some  whose  minds  suggest  an  answer  to 
the  appeal  now  made,  and  who  therefore  can- 
not feel  its  force  ?  It  is  very  well,  they  may 
say,  and  it  is  right  for  you  as  a  minister  of  the 
Gospel  to  speak  in  this  manner  and  advise  us 
to  keep  out  of  temptation.  We  acknowledge 
the  danger,  and  do  not  claim  to  be  stronger 
than  others  who  have  fallen.  You  say  that  it 
is  disgraceful  for  a  young  man  to  be  a  daily 
visitor  at  the  bar-room,  and  we  have  often  felt 
it  to  be  so.  But  when  we  first  went  there,  it 
was  not  of  our  own  seeking.  It  was  in  per- 
formance of  our  duty.  Our  employers  required 
it  of  us,  or  we  knew  that  they  expected  it,  and 
there  was  no  way  of  avoiding  it.  Even  now, 


TRANSGRESSION.  105 

it  is  a  pert  of  our  regular  employment  to  visit 
such  places  in  search  of  customers,  or  to  carry 
them  there  for  the  sake  of  keeping  them  in 
good  humor  and  securing  their  patronage.  If, 
therefore,  the  habit  grows  upon  us,  and  we 
learn  to  continue  it  for  our  own  sake,  we  do 
not  well  see  how  to  avoid  it.  We  must  either 
run  the  risk  or  lose  our  places. 

What  shall  we  say  to  this  ?  I  wish  that  it 
could  be  denied,  as  a  slander  against  the  good 
name  of  this  community,  but  it  contains  too 
much  truth.  I  have  known  it  to  be  true  in 
many  instances.  There  are  some  houses,  so 
I  am  credibly  informed,  that  have  a  contingent 
fund  to  defray  the  expenses  incurred  by  their 
young  men  in  this  miserable  pursuit  of  Busi- 
ness. In  others,  the  same  thing  is  done  in  a 
less  systematic  way,  but  quite  as  effectually, 
and  there  are  comparatively  few  in  which  it  is 
absolutely  forbidden.  The  young  man  is  ac- 
counted valuable,  and  receives  promotion,  in 
proportion  to  his  success  in  bringing  custom- 
ers and  in  selling  to  them  large  bills ;  although 
it  is  perfectly  well  known  by  what  arts  of  per- 


106  TRANSGRESSION. 

suasion  it  is  accomplished.  A  merchant  said 
to  me  a  few  days  since,  "  If  it  goes  on  in  this 
way,  every  house  will  need,  not  only  a  buying 
partner,  and  a  selling  partner,  and  a  counting- 
room  partner,  but  a  drinking  partner,  to  make 
it  successful."  If  that  were  all,  I  would  not 
complain  so  much.  If  men  would  do  this 
work  for  themselves,  it  would  only  be  another 
instance  of  a  man's  endangering  his  soul  for 
money  ;  but  to  send  the  young  and  inexperi- 
enced upon  this  bad  errand,  is  a  wrong  beyond 
endurance.  There  can  be  no  sufficient  excuse 
for  it.  If  the  continuance  of  trade  requires  it, 
then  is  trade  an  accursed  thing,  in  which  no 
honorable  man  should  engage.  The  competi- 
tion, which  leads  to  it  is  unmanly,  and  the 
prosperity  gained  by  it  is  disgrace.  But  we 
do  not  believe  it.  We  confidently  deny  the 
necessity  of  resorting  to  such  means,  under 
any  circumstances.  Every  respectable  mer- 
chant should  positively  prohibit  their  use ;  and 
every  respectable  young  man  should  positively 
refuse  to  be  made  the  instrument  of  pandering 
to  the  vices  of  others,  at  the  risk  of  his  own 


TRANSGRESSION.  107 

virtue.  Some  temporary  loss  may  be  incurred; 
by  adhering  to  such  principles ;  but  any  loss 
is  better  than  that  of  self-respect.  Pardon  rne 
if  I  speak  too  plainly,  and  "  he  that  hath  ears 
to  hear,  let  him  hear." 

Another  way  to  ruin  is  found  in  the  viola- 
tion of  the  Lord's  day.  I  spoke,  last  week,  of 
the  wasted  Sunday  as  a  hinderance  to  self- 
improvement  I  speak  of  it  now  as  a  sin,  the 
consequences  of  which  are  ruinous  to  the  soul. 

I  am  not  what  is  commonly  called  a  strict 
Sabbatarian.  My  ideas  concerning  the  Lord's 
day  are  neither  Jewish  nor  Puritan.  "  The 
Sabbath  was  made  for  man,  not  man  for  the 
Sabbath."  Its  superstitious  observance  either 
by  the  individual  or  by  a  community  is  not  to 
be  desired.  Yet  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  day 
was  intended  to  be  held  sacred  from  the  com- 
mon uses  of  the  week.  If  we  are  disposed  to 
doubt  this,  experience  and  observation  will 
prove  it.  If  you  devote  it  to  your  ordinary 
occupations,  as  a  working  day,  or  to  the  pur- 
suit of  pleasure,  as  a  holiday,  it  will  become 
to  you  a  frequent  occasion  of  sin,  and  both 


108  TRANSGRESSION. 

your  mind  and  your  character  will  suffer. 
This  is  partly  because  we  need  the  refresh- 
ment of  occasional  rest  from  our  ordinary 
pursuits,  and  one  day  in  seven  is  not  too 
much.  It  is  needed  equally  by  the  mind  and 
the  body.  Our  affections  need  it  to  prevent 
their  becoming  dull  or  morbid  ;  the  judgment 
is  more  healthy  and  the  thoughts  more  clear 
by  a  respite  from  labor.  The  eagerness  of 
social  ambition  is  restrained,  and  the  compar- 
ative value  of  the  different  objects  of  pursuit 
more  justly  discerned. 

This  is  the  ordinary  influence  of  the  Lord's 
day,  considered  as  a  day  of  rest  from  our 
common  labors,  and  without  regard  to  its  relig- 
ious uses.  Nor  is  there  a  community  on  the 
face  of  the  earth  which  needs  its  restorative 
influence  more  than  our  own.  I  have  some- 
times thought,  that  if  it  were  not  for  the  Sab- 
bath day,  upon  which  we  stop  working,  from 
motives  of  respectability  if  from  no  other,  one 
half  of  us  would  go  crazy,  through  the  rest- 
less eagerness  of  our  industry.  In  the  breath- 
ing time  which  Sunday  gives,  we  recover  the 


ri  .1ANSGRESSION.  109 

exhausted  strength,  and  return  to  our  work 
with  a  spirit  somewhat  chastened  and  more 
free  from  unhealthy  excitement.  As  business 
men,  therefore,  we  lose  nothing,  but  gain  a 
great  deal,  by  turning  away  from  ordinary 
pursuits  and  resting  from  them  one  day  in 
seven.  There  is  no  command  of  God's  re- 
vealed word,  which  receives  a  more  perfect 
confirmation  from  our  own  experience  than 
this :  "  Remember  the  Sabbath  day  to  keep 
it  holy." 

If  you  will  consider  it  as  giving  time  and 
opportunity  for  religious  improvement,  its  im- 
portance still  more  fully  appears.  It  is  the 
time  for  meditation,  for  serious  reading  and 
for  prayer.  I  do  not  mean  that  every  hour  of 
it  must  be  so  used,  but  that  this  use  of  the 
day  should  be  prominent  in  our  thoughts. 
None  of  us  can  safely  dispense  with  it.  Our 
religious  progress  will  be  slow,  and  our  es- 
trangement from  God  will  become  greater 
every  day,  unless  some  portion  of  the  Sunday 
is  regularly  given  to  its  religious  uses.  The 
young  person  who  neglects  these  has  no  rea- 


110  TRANSGRESSION. 

son  to  be  surprised  to  find  himself  becoming 
more  and  more  irreligious.  If  he  sets  any 
value  upon  religion,  if  he  does  not  wish  to 
free  himself  altogether  from  the  restraints 
which  religion  imposes,  if  he  does  not  wish 
to  make  complete  shipwreck  of  his  religious 
hopes,  then  let  him  give  a  part  of  the  Lord's 
day  to  the  house  of  prayer,  a  part  of  it  to 
his  Bible,  and  a  part  to  serious  reflection. 
This  is  not  asking  too  much  ;  it  may  seem 
too  much  to  those  who  have  no  higher  object 
in  life  than  to  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry ;  but 
not  to  those  who  have  any  nobleness  of  char- 
acter left,  nor  to  those  who  believe  that  our 
chief  duty  here  is  to  prepare  ourselves  for 
the  future. 

The  profanation  of  the  Lord's  day  to  the 
purposes  of  amusement,  seems  almost  to 
bring  a  special  judgment  upon  those  who  are 
guilty  of  it.  I  do  not  mean  by  any  outward 
punishment,  but  by  the  injury  done  to  them- 
selves, in  their  own  moral  and  religious  life. 
It  generally  precedes,  if  it  does  not  mark,  the 
decline  of  virtue  and  the  growth  of  immoral- 


TRANSGRESSION.  Ill 

ity.  We  may  well  be  surprised  at  the  extent 
to  which  this  is  true,  until  we  look  at  the  in- 
fluences to  which  such  a  use  of  the  day  gen- 
erally exposes  us.  It  brings  us  into  low  asso- 
ciations. Sunday  amusements  are  generally 
of  a  vulgar  kind,  and  must  be  enjoyed,  if  at 
all,  in  vulgar  companionship.  Those  who 
are  seeking  for  a  better  respectability  will  not 
join  in  them.  They  are  kept  away  by  regard 
to  their  reputation,  if  not  by  higher  principles 
If  we  seek  them,  therefore,  our  associates 
must  be  those  who  are  more  likely  to  relish 
vice  than  virtue,  and  whose  influence  upon  us 
will  be  of  the  worst  kind.  The  influences  of 
the  day,  instead  of  being  the  best,  become  the 
most  pernicious  of  the  whole  week ;  instead 
of  being  consecrated  to  God,  it  is  made  the 
occasion  of  sin.  We  have  no  reason,  there- 
fore, to  wonder  at  the  evil  result.  By  famil- 
iarity with  vulgar  scenes,  by  friendship  with 
vulgar  associates,  by  separating  ourselves 
from  refined  and  religious  society,  we  may 
go  downward  just  as  rapidly  as  we  please. 
Thus  it  is,  that  what  is  called  Sabbath » 


112  TRANSGRESSION. 

breaking  becomes  so  great  a  sin.  Thus  it  often 
becomes  the  introduction  tc  every  vice,  and  to 
many  young  persons  is  the  first  step  towards 
their  ruin.  It  places  them  in  a  position  where 
all  the  "  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked "  reach 
them.  You  may  call  the  observance  of  the 
Lord's  day  a  ritual  observance,  if  you  please, 
but  it  is  inseparable  from  religion  itself.  It  is 
inseparable  from  morality.  If  you  neglect  it, 
if  you  become  a  confirmed  Sabbath-breaker, 
turning  your  feet  away  from  the  house  of 
God,  and  devoting  its  hours  to  pleasure-seek- 
ing, your  pleasures  will  soon  become  dissipa- 
tion ;  even  your  respectability  will  be  on  the 
wane ;  your  ideas  of  right  and  wrong  will  be 
more  and  more  unsettled,  and  your  soul  itself 
is  lost.  I  commend  it,  therefore,  young  men, 
to  your  serious  consideration.  Do  not  set  it 
aside  as  a  mere  usage,  which  in  itself  is 
neither  right  nor  wrong.  Use  it  well,  and  it 
will  become  to  you  indeed  the  Lord's  day, 
diffusing  through  the  whole  week  a  sanctifying 
influence,  making  your  whole  lives  an  accept- 
able service  to  Him.  If  you  waste  it  or  pro- 


TRANSGRESSION.  113 

fane  it,  no  one  can  measure  the  extent  of  the 
evil  which  may  follow.  Upon  the  Sabbath, 
therefore,  even  above  all  other  days,  remember 
u  not  to  enter  into  the  path  of  the  wicked,  not 
to  go  in  the  way  of  evil  men.  Avoid  it,  pass 
not  by  it,  turn  from  it,  and  pass  away." 

Among  the  evil  habits  by  which  many 
young  men  are  ruined,  \ve  must  mention  the 
sin  of  gambling.  It  is  a  subject  upon  which 
I  have  had  almost  no  opportunity  of  observa- 
tion. I  must  speak  of  it,  therefore,  with  diffi- 
dence, because,  so  far  as  facts  are  concerned, 
my  knowledge  goes  but  little  way.  But  I  am 
told  by  others,  that  the  evil  to  which  we  now 
refer  exists  among  us  to  a  great  extent.  1  am 
told  that  it  is  a  common  habit  among  young 
men,  both  upon  a  small  and  a  large  scale.  Oc- 
casionally I  hear  of  those  who  lose  more  money 
in  this  way  than  they  can  afford;  and  at  longer 
intervals,  some  marked  instance  comes  before 
us,  with  a  notoriety  which  ends  in  infamy, 
of  those  who  have  been  betrayed  by  the  gam- 
ing-table into  dishonesty  towards  their  em- 
ployers and  into  their  own  ruin.  We  also  heai 
8 


114  TRANSGRESSION. 

sometimes,  but  are  almost  unable  to  believe 
it,  that  among  the  most  respectable  and  influ- 
ential men,  gambling  is  a  usage,  and  that 
those  who,  by  their  position  in  society,  ought 
to  set  an  example  of  the  strictest  morality,  are 
exerting  hereby  a  fatal  influence.  For  such 
things,  although  they  may  be  done  in  a  corner, 
are  sure  to  go  abroad.  They  become  a  part 
of  our  moral  atmosphere.  It  is  breathed  by 
the  young  man,  whose  principles  are  yet  but 
imperfectly  formed,  and  taints  his  moral 
nature.  The  necessity  of  virtue  seems  less 
urgent,  the  hideousness  of  vice  becomes  less 
hateful.  The  responsibility  which  rests  upon 
those  who  stand  at  the  head  of  society,  by 
whatever  cause  they  are  placed  there,  cannot 
be  exaggerated.  They  would  do  well  to  con- 
sider it  more  maturely.  If  not  for  their  own 
sake,  then  for  the  sake  of  those  who  look  to 
them  as  an  example,  and  in  whose  eyes  they 
are  making  wickedness  respectable,  they 
should  discountenance  this,  as  well  as  every 
otner  form  of  social  iniquity. 

But   our  business    at   present   is  with   the 


TRANSGRESSION.  115 

young  themselves  ;  with  those  whose  visits  to 
the  gambling-table  have  as  yet  been  lew,  and 
who  have  not  yet  experienced  its  worst  influ- 
ence. If  the  habit  is  already  confirmed,  they 
are  probably  beyond  the  reach  of  our  influ- 
ence ;  for  of  all  sinful  habits,  there  is  none 
whose  enticements  are  so  alluring  to  those 
who  have  taken  the  first  step,  none  which 
binds  around  its  votary  cords  more  difficult 
to  be  broken.  We  address  ourselves  also  to 
those  by  whom  the  first  step  has  not  yet  been 
taken.  Upon  them,  chiefly,  an  influence  may 
be  exerted.  With  all  the  earnestness  we  are 
capable  of  using,  we  implore  them  to  keep 
away  from  the  gaming-table.  As  they  love 
their  souls,  as  they  value  their  peace  of  mind, 
yes,  as  they  prize  their  common  respectability 
in  the  world,  let  them  keep  away. 

The  evils  of  gambling  are  so  many,  that  I 
scarcely  know  how  to  enumerate  them.  First, 
and  unavoidably,  it  leads  the  young  man  into 
the  worst  of  company.  The  game  of  chance 
is  a  complete  leveller.  For  a  time  there  may 
be  a  vain  effort  of  exclusiveness,  but  it  will 


116  TRANSGRESSION. 

not  continue  long.  Very  soon  he  is  upon 
terms  of  intimacy  with  those  whom  he  de- 
spises, and  who  despise  or  hate  him  in  return. 
Again,  from  the  very  first,  an  unhealthy  ex- 
citement is  produced,  not  so  much  an  excite- 
ment as  a  fever  of  the  mind.  It  often  grows 
to  a  delirium,  under  which  all  self-control  is 
lost,  an  intoxication  worse  than  that  of  drunk- 
enness itself.  It  is  at  such  times  that  one  is 
betrayed  into  dishonesty,  when  he  stakes  upon 
the  turn  of  a  card  money  which  he  must  dis- 
honestly steal,  before  he  can  honorably  pay 
He  scarcely  knows  what  he  is  doing ;  wher 
it  is  done,  he  is  as  much  astonished  as  we  are 
to  hear  of  it ;  but  it  is  then  too  late.  A  step 
taken  upon  that  road  is  followed  by  another 
and  another,  until  discovery  and  ruin  overtake 
him. 

To  the  beginner  at  the  gaming-table,  the 
intoxicating  cup  is  always  made  an  adjunct 
of  the  evil,  and  thus  one  temptation  is  in- 
creased by  the  other.  The  confirmed  gam- 
bler, indeed,  is  shrewd  enough  to  keep  himself 
sober.  If  he  drinks  freely,  it  is  because  he 


TRANSGRESSION.  117 

has  inured  himself  by  long  habit,  so  that  he 
does  not  feel  its  influence ;  but  generally,  he 
takes  only  enough  to  lead  others  beyond  their 
depth.  A  confirmed  gambler,  therefore,  is 
seldom  a  drunkard.  Bat  with  the  tyro  it  is 
quite  different.  He  lacks  nerve  for  his  new 
employment.  He  feels  a  little  ashamed  of  him- 
self;  he  is  acting  a  part  which  he  is  not  used 
to;  he  feels  timid  and  hesitates;  and  for  all 
such  feelings,  wine  is  a  panacea;  or,  by  some 
beverage  more  ingeniously  contrived,  he  is 
soon  brought  to  a  degree  of  self-confidence 
which  makes  him  feel  quite  at  home.  How 
great  does  the  peril  now  become !  He  goes 
downward  at  an  increasing  pace.  Late  in 
the  evening,  he  returns  home  with  a  feverish 
brain,  but  with  a  heart  already  heavy  as  lead, 
and  on  the  morrow  curses  the  day  on  which 
he  was  born. 

Again,  the  habit  of  gambling,  whether  on  a 
large  or  small  scale,  develops  the  worst  feel- 
ings of  a  man's  nature.  It  makes  him  cold 
and  selfish  and  distrustful.  He  learns  to  hate 
those  whom  he  calls  his  friends,  for  their  gain 


118  TRANSGRESSION. 

is  continually  his  own  loss.  He  regards  them 
with  suspicion,  accuses  them  of  unfairness, 
thinks  that  they  are  overreaching  him  and 
endeavors  to  overreach  them  in  return.  Un- 
der such  a  discipline  all  frankness  of  char- 
acter gives  way ;  all  scrupulousness  of  con- 
science disappears  ;  mean  and  tricky  subter- 
fuges are  resorted  to,  and  each  one  becomes 
guilty  of  that  of  which  he  suspects  the  other. 
A  great  deal  is  said  about  debts  of  honor,  but 
the  principal  debt  is  that  incurred  in  one's  own 
soul  by  the  loss  of  honor  itself. 

[u  The  purchase  of  lottery  tickets  is  one  of 
the  worst  species  of  gambling  which  any  man 
or  woman  ever  engaged  in.  It  has  all  the 
temptations  and  excitements,  and  offers  more 
inducements,  than  the  Faro-bank  or  the  Rou- 
lette-table. There  are  but  few  persons  who 
have  engaged  in  the  purchase  of  lottery  tick- 
ets that  have  not  continued  to  pursue  it,  and 
with  many  it  becomes  a  passion  as  fearful  as 
any  in  the  catalogue.  It  is  tempting,  because 
it  requires  but  a  small  sum  to  commence,  and 
the  drawing  of  one  or  two  numbers  is  suffi- 


TRANSGRESSION.  119 

cient  to  lure  the  victim  on.  The  excitement 
is  great,  from  the  amount  of  gain  in  prospect, 
and  the  duration  of  the  suspense.  At  the 
gambling-table,  the  money  is  down,  the  stake 
must  bear  some  proportion  to  the  amount  to 
be  won,  and  a  few  turns  of  the  cards,  or 
throws  of  the  dice,  decide  it.  But  not  so  in 
this  lottery  business.  A  dollar,  or  a  few  dol- 
lars, invested  in  lottery  tickets,  will,  if  success- 
ful, enrich  the  holder  with  as  many  or  more 
thousands.  From  the  moment  of  the  pur- 
chase until  the  announcement  of  the  result  of 
the  drawing,  he  lives  in  a  state  of  painful  and 
improper  excitement.  At  one  moment,  golden 
visions  dance  before  the  distempered  brain, 
and  fancy  pictures  the  possession  of  thou- 
sands ;  the  next,  all  is  lost,  and  the  holder  is 
the  victim  of  every  species  of  ill-fate  and  mis- 
fortune. 

"  There  are  two  classes  of  the  community 
who  are  peculiarly  susceptible  to  the  influence 
of  this  evil  excitement,  and  upon  whom  the 
reports  of  special  good  fortune,  on  the  part  of 
a  few,  are  calculated  to  have  a  most  pernicious 


120  TRANSGRESSION 

influence.  They  are  the  young,  and  females. 
They  are  both  desirous  of  the  enjoyment  of 
wealth,  independence,  and  fortunes.  They 
are  susceptible  of  the  influence  which  such  re- 
ports carry  with  them.  They  can  see  no  rea- 
son why  they  may  not  be  as  lucky  as  anybody 
else,  and,  once  in  the  vortex,  they  are  ruined. 
A  failure,  or  partial  success,  but  induces 
further  trials;  and  thus  they  go  on,  step  by 
step,  until  their  money  is  exhausted,  their 
honor  and  every  thing  sacrificed  to  a  depraved 
and  unreasonable  passion."*] 

In  what  I  am  now  saying,  I  again  acknowl- 
edge that  I  speak  from  theory  more  than  ob- 
servation. In  these  departments  of  life,  my 
opportunities  of  observing  are  very  small. 
But  the  little  I  have  seen,  interpreted  under 
the  general  principles  of  human  nature,  justi- 
fies all  that  has  been  said.  If  so,  my  appeal 
cannot  be  too  earnestly  made.  Keep  away 

*  The  above  extract  is  taken  from  the  leading  editorial  of 
the  St.  Louis  Republican,  Nov.  20,  and  is  here  introduced,  al- 
though not  in  the  Lecture  delivered,  as  indispensable  to  the 
subject  discussed. 


TRANSGRESSION.  12l 

from  the  gambling-table.  Nay,  keep  away 
from  the  places  where  it  is  spread.  Do  not 
by  your  presence  there  give  countenance  to 
that  great  iniquity.  Do  not,  for  the  sake  of 
a  transient  pleasure,  suffer  your  name  to  be 
enrolled  among  those  who  are  guilty  of  this 
sin.  Even  if  you  refrain  from  it  yourself,  you 
are  giving  your  patronage  to  those  who  live 
by  it,  and  you  are  thereby  committing  a  grave 
and  serious  offence  against  society.  Do  not 
answer,  that  you  must  have  some  amusement. 
It  is  not  so  needful,  that  you  must  commit 
sin  or  endanger  your  virtue  in  its  pursuit. 
Let  your  hearts  be  set  upon  something  better 
than  amusement,  upon  self-improvement  and 
a  useful  life,  and  you  will  find  ways  of  recrea- 
tion without  entering  "  upon  the  path  of  the 
wicked,  or  going  in  the  way  of  evil  men." 

My  time  is  already  more  than  exhausted, 
and  with  it  my  own  strength,  and  I  fear  your 
patience.  Yet  there  is  one  other  topic  upon 
which  I  must  speak,  before  closing.  It  is  a 
subject  the  most  difficult  of  all,  requiring  at 
the  same  time  plainness  and  delicacy  in  its 


122  TRANSGRESSION. 

treatment.  I  must  trust  to  your  own  thoughts 
to  supply  my  deficiency;  and  to  your  own 
love  of  virtue,  that  a  right  direction  to  your 
thoughts  may  be  given 

41  So  dear  to  Heaven  is  saintly  CHASTITY, 
That,  when  a  soul  is  found  sincerely  so, 
A  thousand  liveried  angels  lackey  her, 
Driving  far  off  each  thing  of  sin  and  guilt ; 
But  when  lust, 

By  unchaste  looks,  loose  gestures,  and  foul  talk, 
But  most  by  lewd  and  lavish  act  of  sin, 
Lets  in  defilement  to  the  inward  parts, 
The  soul  grows  clotted  by  contagion, 
Embodies  and  imbrutes,  till  she  quite  lose 
The  divine  property  of  her  first  being." 

When  speaking  upon  the  same  subject, 
Solomon  asks,  "  Can  a  man  take  fire  in  his  \r 
bosom,  and  his  clothes  not  be  burnt  ?  Can  one 
go  upon  hot  coals,  and  his  feet  not  be  burnt?" 
Again  the  Apostle  Paul  says,  "  Know  ye  not 
that  your  bodies  are  the  members  of  Christ  ? 
Shall  I  then  take  the  members  of  Christ,  and 
make  them  the  members  of  a  harlot  ?  God 
forbid !  What,  know  ye  not  that  your  body 
is  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Spirit  which  is  in 


TRANSGRESSION.  123 

you,  which  ye  have  of  God,  and  ye  are  not 
your  own  ?  If  any  man  defile  the  temple  of 
God,  him  shall  God  destroy;  for  the  temple 
of  God  is  holy ;  which  temple  ye  are."  In 
hearing  such  words,  we  feel  that  our  bodies 
are  sacred,  and  that  we  have  no  right  to  pro- 
fane them  by  the  defilement  of  sin.  We 
should  avoid  impurity  of  thought  and  of  ac- 
tion, as  we  avoid  contagion  and  death.  No 
grave  for  the  soul  can  be  dug  so  deep,  as  that 
in  which  it  is  buried  by  licentiousness. 

Of  all  the  influences  in   society,  calculated  i 
to  purify  and  elevate  man's  character,  that  of 
virtuous  arid  well-educated  women  is  perhaps 
the  strongest.     From  the   hallowed  precincts  j 
of  the  domestic  circle,  it  drives  away  all  sinful 
pleasure;  in  the  intercourse  of  social  life,  it  I 
makes  virtue  attractive  and   sin  hateful.      It 
touches  the  soul  to  its  gentler  issues,  and  be-  j 
stows   a   grace    upon    whatever    is    noble   in 
human  life.     An  essential  part  of  the  educa- 
tion of  a  young  man  is  in  woman's  society. 
He  needs  it  as  much  as  he  needs  the  educa- 
tion of  books,  and   its  neglect  is  equally  per- 


\ 


124  TRANSGRESSION. 

nicious.  Every  one  knows  that  it  is  a  good 
trait  in  a  young  man,  to  be  fond  of  ladies 
society.  I  do  not  mean,  to  become  what  is 
technically  called  a  ladies'  man,  which  is  very 
frequently  another  term  for  foppishness  and 
effeminacy,  and  by  which  many  make  them- 
selves objects  of  just  contempt;  but  I  mean 
that  he  who  can  enjoy  the  refined  pleasure 
which  comes  from  female  society  is  not 
likely  to  enjoy  himself  in  the  haunts  of  dis- 
sipation. 

But  in  proportion  as  she  exerts  a  good  and 
purifying  influence  when  well  educated  and 
virtuous,  her  influence  becomes  pernicious  if 
her  character  is  perverted.  When  frivolous 
or  heartless,  she  turns  many  from  good  ;  when 
wicked,  she  is  the  most  successful  minister  of 
ruin.  The  best  things  perverted,  become  the 
worst.  Take  from  the  air  we  breathe  one  of 
its  component  parts,  and  a  single  breath  of  it 
causes  death.  Take  from  woman's  charac- 
ter her  love  and  practice  of  virtue,  and  her 
presence  becomes  death  to  the  soul.  He  who 
betrays  her  from  her  innocence  is  not  less 


TRANSGRESSION.  125 

hateful  in  the  eyes  of  God,  than  the  serpent 
who  brought  sin  into  Paradise.  He  who  is 
upon  terms  of  friendship  with  her  after  she  is 
betrayed,  unless  for  the  purpose  of  restoring 
her  to  virtue,  is  helping  her  to  sink  lower  in 
her  degradation,  and  himself  goes  down  with 
her  to  the  gates  of  hell. 

How  does  such  an  one  dare  to  come  from 
the  scenes  of  iniquity  to  the  society  of  the 
pure  and  good  ?  How  does  he  dare  to  touch 
the  hand  of  her  whose  face  expresses  the  beau- 
ty of  innocence  ?  As  when  Satan  stood 
among  the  sons  of  God,  we  say  to  him, 
"  Whence  comest  thou,"  and  what  place  have 
you  here?  His  own  sense  of  shame  should 
keep  him  away ;  or  if  he  comes,  he  should  be 
driven  away  with  scorn.  I  know  that  it  is  in 
part  woman's  own  fault,  for  very  often  when 
she  knows  full  well  whence  he  cometh,  she 
welcomes  him  with  smiles ;  but  in  doing  so 
she  is  a  traitor  to  her  own  sex,  and  stains  her 
own  purity.  It  is  disgraceful  to  society  that 
men,  for  whose  description  every  English  word 
is  too  vulgar,  and  over  whose  conduct  a  veil 


126  TRANSGRESSION. 

is  thrown  by  calling  them 
admitted  even  in  the  highest  circles  upon 
equal  terms,  yes,  and  often  upon  better  terms, 
with  honest  and  honorable  men. 

Young  men !  I  would  speak  to  you  upon 
this  subject  even  more  earnestly,  if  I  dared. 
I  commend  it  to  your  own  thoughts.  He  who 
loses  his  respect  for  woman  and  his  veneration 
for  woman's  virtue,  is  sinking  very  fast;  he  is 
travelling  very  rapidly  towards  ruin.  I  appeal 
to  each  one  of  you,  therefore,  by  the  love 
which  you  bear  to  your  own  mother,  or  by  the 
sacredness  of  her  memory,  by  the  tender  af- 
fection which  you  feel  for  your  own  sisters, 
and  by  the  indignation  which  would  fill  your 
hearts,  if  any  one  were  to  approach  them  with 
an  impure  word  or  look,  —  I  appeal  to  you  by 
the  respect  which  you  cannot  help  feeling  for 
the  innocence  and  purity  of  womanhood,  —  to 
keep  your  own  purity  of  character  and  to  avoid 
this  worst  contamination  of  sin. 

Alas!  how  many  are  the  dangers  that  threat- 
en you  !  What  watchfulness,  what  energy  of 
purpose,  do  you  need  ?  The  ground  upon 


TRANSGRESSION.  127 

which   you   stand   is  enchanted.     Perils  and 
snares  are  around  you. 

"  Beware  of  all,  guard  every  part, 
But  most,  the  traitor  in  your  heart." 

"  Wherewithal  shall  the  young  man  cleanse 
his  way?  by  taking  heed  thereto,  according  to 
Thy  word.  Enter  not  into  the  path  of  the 
wicked,  and  go  not  in  the  way  of  evil  men, 
Avoid  it;  pass  not  by  it:  turn  from  it,  and 
pass  away." 


LECTURE    V. 


THE  WAYS  OF  WISDOM. 


"And  when  he  came  to  himself,  he  said,  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my 
father,  and  will  say  unto  him,  Father,  I  ho.ee  sinned  against  Heaven, 
and  before  thee.  And  he  arose,  stnd  came  to  his  father." — Luke  xv 
17, 18,  20. 


FROM  my  choice  of  these  words  as  a  text, 
it  might  naturally  be  supposed  that  I  intend 
to  speak  only  of  those  who  have  wandered  far 
from  the  right  path,  and  whose  danger  is  al- 
ready imminent  The  young  man  in  the  par- 
able "  went  to  a  far  country,"  by  which  is  in- 
dicated the  degree  of  his  iniquity ;  his  living 
was  quite  wasted,  and  all  his  means  of  self- 
support  quite  gone,  before  he  came  to  himself. 
Then,  when  his  unwoA"thiness  was  complete, 
and  there  was  no  other  to  whom  he  could 
turn,  he  said,  "  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  fa- 
ther" ;  scarcely  hoping  indeed  to  be  received, 


THE    WAYS    OF 

but  having  no  other 
despair. 

How  perfectly  true  to 
er  friends  deserted  him,  that  he  turns" 
to  the  home  of  his  childhood,  seeking  forgive- 
ness first  from  those  whom  he  has  most  in- 
jured! It  is  the  father's  house  and  the  moth- 
er's love,  to  which  we  turn  as  a  sure  haven  of 
rest,  when  the  world  treats  us  unkindly.  It  is 
there  that  we  are  most  sure  to  find  acceptance, 
however  great  our  ill-desert.  Although  sinful 
and  degraded,  friendless  and  outcast,  we  are 
sure  of  a  welcome  there.  Nor  is  there  a  pang 
which  the  world's  worst  treatment  can  inflict 
so  severe  as  this  thought,  that  in  spite  of  all 
our  errors,  in  spite  of  all  our  ingratitude,  in 
spite  of  all  our  heartless  disobedience,  a  wel- 
come is  ready  for  us  there,  whenever  we  will 
return ;  that  a  fond  mother  will  find  excuses 
for  us  through  the  greatness  of  her  love,  and 
hope  for  us  through  the  greatness  of  her  faith  ; 
that  the  father,  although  he  may  seem  more 
stern,  is  ready,  whenever  he  sees  us  returning, 
to  come  out  and  meet  the  penitent,  "  to  fall 
9 


130  THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM. 

upon  his  neck  and  kiss  him."  Such  is  a  pa- 
rent's love ;  so  great  is  a  parent's  forbearance. 
If  it  had  not  been  for  h;s  confidence  in  this, 
must  there  not  have  been  times  when  the 
weight  of  his  sins  would  have  crushed  the 
prodigal,  when  the  degree  of  his  unworthiness 
would  have  driven  him  to  despair  ?  But  the 
remembrance  of  that  love  which  no  ill-desert 
could  estrange  awakened  hope  for  himself,  and 
drew  him  back  again  to  the  paths  of  virtue. 

How  precious,  therefore,  to  our  souls,  should 
be  that  Gospel  which  reveals  the  ALMIGHTY 
GOD,  whom  we  have  offended,  as  the  Father 
who  is  in  Heaven!  What  hopes  are  excited 
by  that  word,  while  at  the  same  time  the 
greatness  of  our  sin  is  made  more  fully  to  ap- 
pear! For  in  proportion  to  the  long-suffering 
of  those  whom  we  offend  is  our  wickedness 
in  offending  them.  But  still  that  precious 
hope  returns,  and  if  He  whom  we  have  chiefly 
offended  is  most  ready  to  forgive,  we  will  yet 
arise  and  go  to  our  Father,  and  say  unto  him, 
"  Father,  we  have  sinned  against  Heaven,  and 
before  thee." 


THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM.  131 

Bat  need  we  wait  until  we  have  wandered 
so  far  ?  May  we  not  feel  the  truth  of  all  I 
have  said,  even  when  our  steps  have  gone  but 
a  little  way  from  the  Father's  house?  Must 
we  wait  until  the  soul  is  buried  under  sin  be- 
fore we  attempt  to  rise  from  it?  Must  he 
who  feels  the  power  of  disease  taking  hold 
upon  him  wait  until  the  whole  body  is  cor- 
rupted, and  the  strength  nearly  gone,  before  he 
appeals  to  the  physician  ?  What  then  must 
be  the  consequence,  but  fatal  disease  and 
death  ?  If  I  understand  the  Scriptures,  salva- 
tion is  needed  by  those  who  have  gone  but  a 
little  way  in  sin,  as  well  as  by  those  who  are 
reaching  its  furthest  limit.  The  peril  may  not 
seem  to  be  as  great,  but  the  saving  power  is 
equally  needed.  In  both  cases,  the  principle 
of  life  is  wrong,  and  a  radical  change  is  there- 
fore required. 

The  weeds  which  are  springing  up  in  a  cul- 
tivated garden  may  seem  to  be  insignificant 
and  a  few  moments'  care  would  remove  them; 
but  small  as  they  now  are,  they  contain  al- 
ready the  elements  of  mischief.  Give  them 


132  THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM. 

time  to  grow,  and  it  is  all  they  need.  Their 
roots  strike  deeper,  they  gather  to  their  own 
pernicious  uses  the  strength  of  the  soil ;  they 
grow  up  rapidly,  overshadowing  and  stunting 
the  growth  of  the  worthier  plant,  and  coming 
to  an  early  maturity,  they  scatter  the  seeds  of 
increasing  mischief.  The  wind  disperses  them 
abroad,  until,  in  a  few  years,  the  whole  garden 
has  lost  its  fruitfulness,  and  the  neighboring 
fields  are  also  ruined.  Then,  if  you  would 
eradicate  those  weeds,  which  a  year  ago  were 
so  insignificant,  you  must  strike  the  plough  deep 
and  turn  their  roots  up  to  the  light  of  heaven ; 
and  years  of  patient  industry  will  be  needed 
before  you  rid  yourselves  of  the  evil.  Is  it  not 
better  to  pull  them  up  when  they  are  but  few, 
and  their  hold  upon  the  soil  feeble  ?  They  are 
evil  now,  is  it  not  better  to  prevent  them  from 
becoming  the  parent  of  greater  evil  ?  But  re- 
member that,  whenever  you  take  them  in  hand, 
precisely  the  same  process  is  needed  for  their 
effectual  removal.  You  may  pull  them  up  as 
with  your  fingers,  or  the  ploughshare  may  be 
required  for  the  work  ;  but,  in  either  case,  they 


THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM.  133 

must  be  pulled  up.  To  trample  upon  them 
or  to  cut  them  down  will  not  do  ;  the  root  is 
still  there  and  will  spring  up  again.  To  scat- 
ter good  seed  among  them  is  not  enough ;  for 
there  is  danger  that  the  weeds  will  grow  up 
A  fastest,  and  "  choke  the  good  seed,"  even  as  it 
\  has  been  from  the  beginning.  It  may  be  only 
the  sin  of  occasional  Sabbath-breaking;  it 
may  be  only  that  slight  degree  of  dissipation 
which  is  softened  by  the  name  of  wildness  or 
youthful  folly  ;  it  may  be  only  the  habit  of 
profanity,  by  which  no  great  harm  is  intended, 
and  of  which,  although  we  may  acknowledge 
that  it  is  a  proof  of  bad  manners,  we  are  not 
willing  to  acknowledge  that  it  is  an  evidence 
of  a  bad  heart ;  or  it  may  be  any  other  of  those 
thousand  forms  in  which  sin  makes  its  first 
entrance  into  the  unguarded  heart ;  but  the 

sentence   is    still  the    same,  —  they   must   be 

^J 
rooted  out,  they  must  be  pulled  up  from  the    / 

soil,  if  we  would  secure  our  safety. 

That  little  fire  which  sin  is  kindling  in  the 
soul  may  at  first  seem  only  to  diffuse  a  gentle 
warmth,  and  to  bestow  upon  all  the  faculties 


134.  THE    WAYS    OF   WISDOM. 

an  increased  vigor ;  but  see  to  it,  or  it  will  be 
come  a  raging  and  tormenting  flame,  consum 
ing  even  your  desire  of  goodness.     It  is  bettei 
to  put  it  out.    Extinguish  it  while  you  can.    It 
is  an  easy  work  now,  but  by  and  by  nothing 
but  the  miracles  of  God's  love  can  enable  you 
to  accomplish  it. 

There  is  something  very  pleasant,  very  en- 
couraging, in  the  Scriptural  expression,  "  when 
he  came  to  himself."  It  recognizes  the  fact 
that  there  is  a  better  nature  within  us  than 
that  which  sin  develops.  We  are  not  wholly 
of  the  earth,  a  part  is  also  from  heaven ;  as  it 
is  written,  "  God  created  man  and  made  him 
in  his  own  image."  It  is  true,  that  by  our 
own  sinfulness,  and  through  the  wicked  inven- 
tions of  the  world,  his  image  is  partially  ef- 
faced, or  covered  over  by  so  thick  a  veil  of  the 
earth's  pollutions,  that  it  is  scarcely  discerned; 
but  yet  it  remains  there,  never  completely  lost, 
never  hidden  beyond  the  hope  of  being  again 
restored.  That  heavenly  image  is  the  better 
self.  It  is  of  God,  yet  it  is  our  own.  By  vir- 
tue of  it,  we  claim  alliance  with  God,  and 


THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM.  135 

brotherhood  with  Christ.  If  it  were  utterly 
lost,  salvation  would  be  impossible.  The 
greatest  sinner  whom  Christ  ever  redeemed, 
when  he  arises  from  the  deadly  sleep  and 
awakens  to  righteousness,  does  but  come  to 
himself.  In  the  farthest  land,  destitute  and 
hungry,  feeding  the  swine  which  belong  to  a 
stranger,  desiring  to  share  with  them  in  their 
food,  friendless  and  utterly  degraded,  he  says, 
I  will  arise ;  he  comes  to  himself,  and  at  the 
same  time  looks  upward  to  his  God.  We 
know  how  deadly  are  the  sins  of  which  the 
human  soul  is  capable.  We  know  how  fear- 
ful its  wickedness  becomes.  We  know  its 
waywardness,  its  ingratitude,  its  rebellion 
against  God.  But  we  thank  God  that  there 
is  still  a  better  self  to  which  the  sinner  may 
return.  O  man,  my  brother,  in  the  very  hope- 
lessness of  iniquity  does  not  that  thought  bring 
hope  ?  Thou  art  not  all  debased ;  thou  art 
not  yet  utterly  depraved ;  scarred  and  disfig- 
ured, changed  from  all  the  beauty  which  was 
once  thine  own,  something  of  the  Divine  line- 
aments yet  remains  in  thy  soul.  There  is  yet 


136  THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM. 

a  better  self.  Return  to  it ;  in  the  strength 
which  God  will  give,  if  you  ask  him,  say,  "  I 
will  arise  and  go  to  my  Father." 

But,  we  again  ask,  why  should  we  wait  un- 
til the  hour  of  extreme  want,  before  we  return 
to  the  Father's  house  ?  Why  should  we  wait 
until  our  best  affections  are  seared,  and  the 
purity  of  our  souls  quite  lost,  and  our  capa- 
city for  improvement  impaired,  before  we  rec- 
ognize our  true  good  ?  Do  we  need  that  the 
lesson  should  be  so  severely  taught,  before  we 
will  learn  it?  Should  it  not  be  enough  to  know 
that  the  road  leads  in  a  wrong  direction,  to  in- 
duce us  to  leave  it?  Must  we  go  to  the  very 
end,  and  only  when  ruin  stares  us  in  the  face 
be  willing  to  retrace  our  steps  ?  Then  we 
shall  return,  if  at  all,  way-worn  and  haggard, 
weary  of  the  world,  wounded  in  the  conflict 
with  sin,  with  hearts  so  full  of  sadness  that  we 
can  scarcely  find  room  for  rejoicing,  and  even 
the  hope  of  God's  mercy  will  be  mingled  with 
fears.  Now  we  are  choosing  the  direction  of 
life,  and  it  requires  only  one  strong  resolution, 
one  earnest  prayer,  to  make  the  direction  right, 


THE  WAYS    Ol     WISDOM.  137 

Or  if  we  have  already  gone  a  little  way  in 
the  wrong  path,  the  vigor  of  youth  and  the 
strength  of  manhood  remain,  and  although 
some  time  has  been  lost,  we  may  yet  redeem 
it ;  although  some  stain  has  been  brought 
upon  our  souls,  the  tears  of  repentance  will 
quickly  wash  it  oh1',  and  we  shah1  be  restored 
to  self-respect  and  virtue. 

Consider  this,  young  men,  and  ponder  these 
words  with  care.  If  I  appeal  to  you  so 
earnestly,  it  is  not  because  I  suppose  that 
you  have  already  reached  that  far  country  of 
deadly  sin  and  remorse,  but  that  you  may 
save  yourselves  from  it. 

I  would  show  you  that  this  flowery  path,  in 
which  you  are  walking,  is  wrong  in  its  direc- 
tion, although  pleasant  for  the  time.  Is  there 
not  a  struggle  already  going  on  in  your  hearts, 
between  the  higher  and  lower  principles  of 
your  nature  ?  It  is  the  great  conflict,  the 
struggle  of  life  and  death.  Let  the  whole 
energy  of  a  strong  will  be  thrown  into  it,  and 
the  victory  will  be  for  God  and  your  own 
souls.  Wait  not  until  evil  has  become  the 


138  THE  WAYS    OF    WISDOM. 

habit  of  your  lives,  a  second  nature  scarcely 
to  be  changed;  but  prevent  the  formation  of 
sinful  habits,  now  while  it  can  be  so  easily 
done.  Keep  yourselves  from  bad  influences, 
surround  yourselves  with  the  safeguards  of 
virtue.  It  is  often  better  to  avoid  temptation 
than  to  overcome  it.  The  sight  of  evil  some- 
times leaves  in  the  mind  thoughts  and  images, 
which  are  better  not  to  be  there.  It  is  for  this 
reason  that  I  speak  so  earnestly,  as  if  it  were, 
as  I  believe  it  is,  a  matter  of  infinite  moment. 
Experience  and  observation  both  tell  us,  that 
the  elements  of  the  same  nature  are  in  us  all. 
He  that  has  gone  farthest  from  his  God  went 
one  step  at  a  time,  as  perhaps  we  are  going 
now.  The  lowest  degradation  of  the  worst 
man  living  is  only  the  result  of  the  same 
wayward  tendencies,  to  which  we  are  perhaps 
sometimes  yielding;  of  the  same  bad  pas- 
sions, which  we  perhaps  sometimes  indulge. 
I  know  that  the  evil  has  not  yet  come  in  its 
full  force,  but  honestly  speaking,  do  we  not 
discern  its  possibility  ?  Have  we  not  had 
enough  experience  of  evil  in  our  own  hearts, 


THE  WAYS    OF    WISDOM.  139 

have  we  not  actually  done  enough  in  our  own 
lives,  to  justify  the  fear  of  its  indefinite  in- 
crease? What  then  is  the  course  of  wisdom? 
Is  it  not  to  stop  now  while  it  is  easy  to  stop  ? 
Is  it  not  to  change  the  direction  of  life,  before 
life  itself  is  almost  wasted  ? 

A  mistake  is  often  made  in  thinking  of  sal- 
vation as  something  which  belongs  to  the 
future  world  alone,  and  not  at  all  to  the 
present.  Life  is  represented  as  if  it  were 
only  a  preparation  for  that  beyond  the  grave. 
We  forget  that  it  has  its  own  absolute  duties. 
It  should  have  in  itself  a  completeness ;  it 
should  be  in  itself  a  service  of  God.  We 
have  a  work  to  do  for  ourselves,  for  each  other, 
and  for  the  glory  of  God,  which  must  be  done 
here.  Even  if  we  were  sure  of  ultimate  sal- 
vation, the  neglect  of  this  present  work  is  a 
great  evil  and  a  great  sin.  It  is  a  wrong 
committed  against  God,  against  humanity 
against  our  own  souls.  Even  if  we  escape 
from  its  worst  consequences  by  repentance 
before  we  die,  it  is  a  wrong  in  itself,  which  it 
is  the  part  of  wisdom  to  avoid.  I  shall  ask 


140  THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM. 

you,  therefore,  in  what  remains  of  my  present 
discourse,  to  look  at  the  duties  of  life  from 
this  point  of  view.  Let  us  consider  our  life 
here,  not  as  being  only  a  preparation  for  the 
future,  but  as  being  something  in  itself.  Its 
duties,  its  relations,  its  joys  and  sorrows,  its 
virtues  and  sins,  are  a  present  reality.  To  do 
our  part  here  well  and  manfully,  is  something 
worth  doing.  As,  therefore,  with  reference  to 
the  future  life  and  to  the  great  salvation,  we 
speak  of  the  "  means  of  grace,"  by  which  re- 
demption is  obtained;  so,  with  reference  to  the 
present  life,  we  speak  of  the  means  of  im- 
provement, the  human  safeguards  of  virtue. 
These  must  be  used,  if  we  would  make  the 
best  of  our  own  faculties  and  of  life  itself. 
We  must  exercise  good  sense  in  our  plans  of 
life,  and  place  ourselves  under  the  influences 
which  favor  goodness  and  discourage  sin. 
Some  of  these  influences  we  shall  now  con- 
sider. 

The  first  condition  of  good  health  is  to 
breathe  a  good  atmosphere.  If  with  every 
breath  the  seeds  of  disease  are  brought  to  the 


THE  WAYS    OF   WISDOM.  141 

lungs  or  the  heart,  the  body  will  soon  show 
the  baneful  effect,  in  the  loss  of  its  vigor  and 
strength.  The  influence  may  be  very  subtle, 
but  it  is  all  the  more  irresistible.  So  in  the 
formation  of  character,  —  for  the  preservation 
of  health  to  the  mind  and  the  affections,  to 
maintain  the  purity  of  our  moral  nature,  the 
moral  atmosphere  must  be  pure.  The  asso- 
ciations into  which  we  are  daily  brought  must 
be  favorable  to  virtue.  The  society  in  which 
we  daily  live  must  be  of  a  kind  to  elevate  the 
character. 

It  is  an  old  proverb,  that  "  a  man  is  known 
by  the  company  he  keeps"  This  is  true,  for 
two  reasons.  First,  because,  as  like  seeks  like, 
our  real  tendencies  are  shown  by  the  sort  of 
company  we  enjoy.  If  it  is  vulgar  and  dissi- 
pated, our  seeking  it  proves  that  we  have 
a  relish  for  vulgarity  and  dissipation.  The 
man  of  pure  feeling  and  refined  taste  does 
not  feel  at  home  in  such  companionship  ;  it 
gives  him  no  pleasure  and  he  avoids  it,  as 
he  would  avoid  any  thing  else  disagreeable. 
When,  therefore,  we  see  a  person  frequently 


142  THE  WAYS    OF    WISDOM. 

in  such  company,  it  is  a  fair  and  just  infer- 
ence that  he  is  there  because  he  likes  it,  and 
therefore  that  he  is  himself  of  the  same  sort. 
The  proverb  is  true  for  another  reason.  A 
man  is  known  by  the  company  he  keeps,  be- 
cause, however  different  from  it  he  may  be  at 
first,  he  will  gradually  become  like  it,  almost 
whether  he  will  or  no.  We  are  moulded  by 
the  society  in  which  we  live,  more  than  by 
any  other  influence.  It  is  the  atmosphere  by 
which  we  are  surrounded,  it  is  the  breath 
which  sustains  life  itself.  The  good  man, 
who  goes  among  the  wicked  for  the  purpose 
of  instructing  and  reclaiming  them  to  the 
path  of  virtue,  needs  to  be  careful,  lest  his 
own  moral  nature  become  tainted  by  the  con- 
tact. Even  in  his  endeavors  to  cure  them,  as 
sometimes  with  the  physician  who  cures  dis- 
ease, while  he  is  engaged  in  his  work  of 
mercy  the  contagion  may  reach  his  own  heart. 
Even  under  such  circumstances,  we  need  the 
disinfectant  of  God's  grace  to  secure  us  from 
evil.  But  when  we  enter  into  wicked  or  irre- 
ligious society  for  the  sake  of  its  companion- 


THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM,  143 

ship ;  when  we  seek  our  friends  there  in  the 
enjoyment  of  social  intercourse  ;  however  pure 
we  may  be  at  our  entrance,  our  doom  is  al- 
ready sealed,  and  the  loss  of  innocence  and 
virtue  is  the  unavoidable  result. 

How  can  we  retain  our  veneration  for  God 
and  for  his  glorious  majesty,  if  our  ears  are 
every  moment  filled  with  the  profanation  of 
his  name?  How  can  we  think  of  Christ  as 
our  Redeemer,  when  the  name  of  Jesus  is  a 
by-word,  coupled  with  every  stale  jest,  and 
bandied  about,  in  anger  or  in  sport,  by  those 
whom  he  died  to  save  ?  How  can  we  keep 
any  sacredness  of  thought,  any  respect  for 
religion,  —  the  strong  hope  of  heaven  or  the 
fear  of  hell,  —  if  every  thing  sacred  is  made  the 
subject  of  ridicule,  or  spoken  of  with  careless 
contempt,  by  those  with  whom  we  have  the 
daily  intercourse  of  friendship?  How  can  we 
keep  before  us  the  necessity  of  virtue,  the  in- 
finite value  of  the  soul,  the  infinite  evil  of  sin, 
if  we  are  daily  living  among  those  who  suffer 
no  scruples  of  virtue  to  interfere  with  their 
pleasures,  and  who  can  always  find  an  excuse 


144  THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM. 

for  sin  if  it  is  profitable?  Let  your  own  obser 
vation  of  the  world,  let  your  own  experience  of 
life,  answer.  The  instances  are  so  few,  where 
young  men  have  placed  themselves  under  the 
influence  of  bad  companionship  and  escaped 
its  contamination,  that  they  scarcely  need  to 
be  considered.  They  are  exceptions  to  a  rule 
which  is  almost  universal.  The  young  man 
may  deceive  himself.  At  first,  he  may  sup- 
pose that  his  principles  are  not  corrupted ; 
that  he  enjoys  the  companionship,  its  laugh- 
ter and  its  fun,  without  partaking  of  its  evil 
spirit.  He  may  flatter  himself  that  the  evil 
which  he  hears  and  sees,  only  makes  him  love 
virtue  more;  but  he  is  only  deceiving  himself. 
When  the  Apostle  Paul  speaks  of  wicked 
men  and  their  sins,  he  thus  describes  them  : 
"  Who  not  only  do  such  things,  but  have 
pleasure  in  them  that  do  them."  To  take 
pleasure  in  the  company  of  the  wicked,  is  but 
one  step  from  being  wicked  ourselves.  As  a 
natural  and  almost  inevitable  consequence, 
the  word  of  blasphemy  will  soon  come  from 
our  own  lips ;  the  cup  of  intoxication  will 


THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM.  145 

soon  be  in  our  own  hands  ;  the  cards  and  the 
dice  will  bring  the  fever  to  our  hearts;  and  the 
paths  of  dissipation  will  become  as  familiar 
to  our  feet,  as  they  are  to  those  of  our  com- 
panions. Is  not  this  the  natural  result  ?  Ac- 
cording to  the  laws  of  the  human  mind,  by 
the  natural  working  of  our  affections,  ought 
we  not  to  expect  it?  Is  it  not  the  actual  re- 
sult, of  which  your  own  observation  could 
bring  a  hundred  proofs,  and  to  which  your 
own  experience  is  perhaps  adding  one  proof 
more  ? 

We  again  say  that  the  society  in  which  we 
live  is  the  moral  atmosphere  we  breathe.  If 
it  is  bad,  there  is  but  one  way  of  escaping  its 
bad  influence,  —  namely,  to  change  it.  A 
method  of  cure  which  requires  strong  resolu- 
tion, but  there  is  no  other.  Change  it,  if  need 
be,  by  withdrawal  at  first  from  all  society,  and 
gradually  obtain  the  friendship  of  those  whom 
you  can  respect,  instead.  The  change  may 
require  resolution,  and  will  also  be  attended 
with  difficulties.  Those  whom  you  leave  will 
place  every  obstruction  in  your  way  ;  but  if 
10 


146  THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM. 

you  act,  not  in  a  self-righteous  and  hypocriti- 
cal manner,  but  with  frankness  and  gentle- 
manly courtesy,  even  your  old  companions 
will  respect  you  more,  and  some  of  them, 
perhaps,  accompany  you  in  the  better  path. 
I  am  inclined  to  think  that  whole  companies 
of  young  men  sometimes  continue  in  the 
road  to  ruin,  only  for  the  want  of  two  or  three 
in  their  number,  who  have  resolution  enough 
to  say,  "We  will  stop;  we  will  go  no  farther; 
we  will  abandon  this  course  of  life ;  we  will 
live  as  gentlemen  and  Christians  ought  to 
live."  Let  a  few  say  this,  quietly  but  firmly, 
and  the  hearts  of  many  will  respond.  The 
truth  is,  that  all  have  been  half  ashamed  of 
themselves  for  a  long  time,  and  have  been 
hurried  forward  by  each  other's  example,  each 
one  wanting  the  resolution,  rather  than  the 
disposition,  to  stop.  Let  that  resolution  be 
shown  by  a  few,  and  others  will  be  strength- 
ened thereby,  and  perhaps  the  progress  of  all 
will  be  stayed.  But  whether  such  a  result  fol- 
low or  not,  the  duty  of  the  individual  is  the 
same.  If  he  feels  within  himself  the  strength 


THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM.  147 

to  stop,  let  him  use  it.  Let  him  withdraw 
from  the  associations  in  which  his  own  virtue 
is  corrupted  and  in  which  he  is  corrupting  the 
virtue  of  others.  It  is  not  a  matter  of  expedi- 
ency only ;  it  is  not  for  the  sake  of  respectabil- 
ity alone,  or  of  obtaining  a  better  position  in 
society,  although  this  would  be  in  itself  motive 
enough  to  a  thoughtful  man ;  but  it  is  the 
question  of  virtue  or  vice  ;  it  is  the  alternative 
between  a  life  well  spent  or  utterly  lost. 

We  say,  therefore,  to  the  young  man  who    / 
has  been  brought,  either  by  circumstances  be-  / 
yond   his  control  or  by  his  own  choice,  into  / 
the  society   of   uneducated  or   vulgar  or  dis- 
sipated companions,  that  the  sooner  he   frees 
himself  from  such   influences  the   better,  and 
that  he  must  free  himself  soon,  or  he   will  be 
under  the  servitude  of  sin  for  ever.     Still  more 
earnestly  we  say  to  those   who  have  not  yet 
entered  into  such  companionship,  keep  away 
from  it  as  you  would  avoid   the  contagion  of 
disease,   the   corruption  of  iniquity.     It  may 
have  its  allurements ;  its  fascinations  may  be 
many  to  the  young   and  thoughtless  ;  the  sin 


148  THE   WAYS    OF    WISDOM. 

committed  may  at  first  seem  small;  but  it  is 
the  companionship  itself  that  brings  the  dan 
ger,  and  as  you  value  the  purity,  nay,  the  sal- 
vation of  your  souls,  it  should  be  avoided. 
So  long  as  we  are  in  the  company  of  the  good, 
goodness  is  easy.  Choose  your  companions 
well,  among  those  who  have  correct  views  of 
life,  who  respect  religion,  who  avoid  the  paths 
of  dissipation,  and  a  virtuous  life  will  be  so 
pleasant  that  you  will  desire  no  other.  This 
is  the  great  safeguard  of  virtue.  The  best  of 
us  are  not  strong  enough  to  dispense  with  it; 
to  the  young  and  inexperienced  it  is  every 
thing.  Particularly  in  their  unguarded  and 
leisure  hours,  when  they  seek  for  amusement 
and  recreation  from  toil,  let  the  companion- 
ship in  which  they  share  be  good.  For,  as 
the  unwholesome  air  is  most  fatal  to  the  body 
when  asleep,  so  is  the  contagion  of  bad  exam- 
ple most  fatal,  when  the  mind  rests  from  its 
serious  occupations,  and  throws  itself,  in  un- 
guarded repose,  upon  the  influences  which 
surround  it.  Then  it  is  that  the  excellence  of 
virtue  or  the  deceitfulness  of  sin  prevails  over 


THE  WAYS    OF    WISDOM.  149 

us,  according  to  the  company  in  which  we 
are.  We  should  select  it,  therefore,  with  such 
views,  that,  while  we  gain  refreshment  for  the 
mind,  our  love  of  virtue  may  be  strengthened, 
our  tastes  refined,  and  our  desires  of  goodness 
confirmed. 

The  kindness  with  which  you  have  thus  far 
heard  me,  and  upon  which  I  have  already  en- 
croached by  unusual  plainness  of  speech,  will 
perhaps  allow  me  to  speak  of  another  subject, 
upon  which  judicious  advice  is  sometimes 
needed.  One  of  the  best  rules  for  the  pres- 
ervation of  virtue,  arid  for  keeping  ourselves 
away  from  temptation,  is  to  avoid  extrava- 
\_xgance,  to  keep  out  of  debt.  Economy  is  a 
word  which,  to  the  majority  of  young  persons, 
conveys  the  idea  of  meanness.  It  should 
rather  convey  the  idea  of  independence.  We 
would  not  check  the  youthful  feeling  of  gen- 
erosity. We  would  be  among  the  last  to  in 
culcate  meanness,  nor  is  there  any  one  to 
whom  a  niggardly  and  parsimonious  young 
man  is  more  disagreeable  than  to  me.  Such 
a  character  in  the  young  is  against  nature. 


150  THE    WA\S    OF    WISDOM. 

At  first  sight,  extravagance  itself  seems  more 
excusable.  But  on  the  other  hand,  extrav- 
agance is  a  sort  of  dishonesty ;  to  live  be- 
yond one's  income  often  degenerates  into 
the  worst  meanness  ;  to  owe  money  that  we 
cannot  pay,  drives  one  to  subterfuges  and  un- 
manly evasions,  of  which  no  one  can  help 
being  ashamed.  Debt  is  a  kind  of  servitude, 
under  which  it  is  hard  to  retain  the  more  man- 
ly virtues  of  freedom.  Under  its  influence, 
our  own  self-respect  is  very  apt  to  be  dimin- 
ished. It  is  mortifying  to  acknowledge  even 
to  ourselves  that  there  are  men  whom  we  are 
almost  afraid  to  meet,  and  to  whom  we  have 
given  the  right  to  treat  us  in  a  manner  to  hurt 
our  feelings.  The  creditor  who  demands  pay- 
ment, and  the  debtor  who  is  unable  to  make 
it,  are  seldom  upon  equal  terms. 

There  is  no  rule,  therefore,  more  important 
in  maintaining  independence  of  feeling  and  a 
nice  sense  of  honor,  than  to  live  within  one's 
means,  so  that  we  may  have  an  answer  to  give 
to  every  one  who  says,  "  Pay  me  that  thou 
owest."  I  have  known  many  young  persons 


THE    WAYS    OF   WISDOM.  151 

whose  prospects  in  life  have  been  ruined  by 
neglect  of  this  rule.  Debts,  thoughtlessly  in- 
curred, give  food  for  anxious  thought  after- 
ward, and  it  is  astonishing  how  great  an  effect 
upon  the  whole  character  is  produced.  The 
young  man  suffering  under  this  sort  of  anxie- 
ty, eager  for  an  increase  of  income,  discon- 
tented with  what  he  now  receives,  uneasy  lest 
his  embarrassment  may  be  known,  fearful  of 
being  dunned,  is  in  no  state  of  mind  for  self- 
improvement  When  alone,  he  is  too  nervous 
to  read,  when  in  company  too  restless  for  its 
enjoyment.  The  tone  of  his  mind  becomes 

•  unhealthy  and  his  mode  of  life  careless.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  feeling  that  he  does  not 
depend  upon  the  favor  of  any  one,  that  he  is 
always  in  a  position  to  change  his  place,  if 
unjustly  treated,  and  that  he  is  not  obliged  to 
seek  any  man's  favor  by  unworthy  stooping, 
produces  a  feeling  of  self-respect,  which  will 
save  him  from  a  great  deal  of  folly. 

Another   safeguard   of  virtue   is   found   in 

\  good  books.  By  surrounding  ourselves  with 
them,  and  making  ourselves  familiar  with  them 


152  THE    WAYS    OF   WISDOM. 

as  with  beioved  companions,  we  take  an  ef- 
fectual means  of  self-improvement ;  we  place 
ourselves  beyond  the  reach  of  many  tempta- 
tions ;  we  secure  a  fund  of  enjoyment,  rich  and 
unfailing.  It  is  a  source  of  delight,  of  rational 
happiness,  which  can  never  be  exhausted,  but 
still  becomes  greater,  and  is  prized  more  and 
more  to  the  end  of  life.  He  who  loves  read- 
ing, and  has  books  within  his  reach,  is  an  in- 
dependent man,  be  he  rich  or  poor.  Every 
volume  he  opens  is  a  cordial  friend,  whose 
hand  he  grasps  and  whose  countenance  to- 
wards him  does  not  change. 

We  lose  ourselves  from  the  vexations  of 
life,  we  retire  from  its  cares,  we  forget  its  dis- 
appointments ;  even  its  bereavements  are  soft- 
ened to  our  hearts,  when  we  thus  ponder  the 
wisdom  of  the  dead,  or  receive  the  quickening 
thoughts  of  the  living.  How  sacred,  how 
blessed,  is  that  intercourse !  how  ennobling 
the  companionship,  when  we  stand  with  MIL- 
TON, and  SOCRATES,  and  SHAKSPEARE,  and 
HOMER,  and  ADDISON,  and  JOHNSON,  and 
SCHILLER,  and  GOETHE,  and  all  the  worthies 


THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM.  153 

of  every  land  and  every  age,  from  MOSES,  the 
great  lawgiver,  and  DAVID,  the  greatest  poet, 
to  our  own  WEBSTER  and  BRYANT.  When 
they  are  all  around  us,  with  all  their  best 
thoughts,  their  sagest  instruction  ;  with  the 
gay  sparkling  of  fancy,  and  wit  provoking 
laughter  until  it  comes  with  tears ;  or  with  im- 
ages of  sorrow  and  pathetic  tenderness,  which 
make  our  hearts  almost  bleed,  yet  with  not  an 
unpleasing  sadness ;  in  such  companionship, 
though  alone,  how  glorious  society  we  enjoy! 
Who  could  ask  any  thing  of  the  world  when 
the  treasure  of  such  riches  is  his  own  ? 

Who  can  enjoy  the  society  of  the  vulgar,  or 
enter  upon  scenes  of  dissipation,  when  he  has 
learned  to  enjoy  pleasures  so  refined,  in  com- 
pany so  select  and  beautiful  ? 

The  love  which  the  scholar  feels  for  his 
books,  none  but  a  scholar  can  understand  ;  but 
every  one  who  diligently  seeks  for  self-im- 
provement must  learn  something  of  it  from 
his  own  experience,  or  his  progress  will  be 
slow.  The  taste  for  reading  is  one  of  the  sur- 
est marks  of  an  improving  mind  and  a  virtu- 


154  THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM. 

ous  character.  But  it  will  not  come  of  itself. 
At  first  it  must  be  cultivated  with  diligence, 
as  we  would  perform  any  other  duty.  Other 
engagements  will  seem  more  attractive,  and 
we  shall  sometimes  take  up  our  books  with  a 
feeling  of  weariness,  as  an  irksome  task ;  but 
the  habit  will  soon  be  formed.  As  the  mind 
gains  knowledge,  we  shall  love  the  sources 
from  which  knowledge  comes. 

We  need  offer  no  argument  to  show  that  to 
the  individual  the  habit  is  invaluable ;  to  be  a 
reading  man  is,  generally  speaking,  to  be  a 
moral  man  and  a  useful  citizen.  To  a  com- 
munity it  is  equally  important ;  for  to  be  an 
enlightened  community  and  a  reading  com- 
munity are  but  two  expressions  for  the  same 
thing.  I  would  not  lay  so  much  stress  upon 
this  point,  having  already  spoken  of  it  once 
before  in  these  lectures,  but  because  I  think 
that  this  is  the  respect  in  which,  as  a  commu- 
nity, we  are  most  deficient.  Our  young  men 
need  to  have  their  attention  turned  away  from 
mere  amusement,  to  the  higher  pleasure  which 
reading  affords.  They  need  more  of  that  ed 


THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM.  155 

ucation  and  refinement,  which  books  alone 
can  give.  No  other  human  influence  can  do 
more  than  this  to  check  the  growth  of  intem- 
perance and  to  elevate  the  moral  standing  of 
this  city.  If  I  had  it  in  my  power  to  close  ev- 
ery bar-room  and  place  of  wickedness,  and  to 
prohibit  the  sale  of  intoxicating  drink  by  law, 
I  should  probably  exercise  the  power  with 
great  gladness ;  but  not  one  half  the  good 
would  be  thereby  accomplished,  nor  would  it 
be  half  so  well  done,  as  by  giving  to  all  our 
young  men  so  great  a  taste  for  reading,  that 
they  would  lose  the  taste  for  dissipation.  If 
we  could  thus  take  away  the  occupants  of  our 
splendid  saloons,  their  splendor  would  soon 
fade  away. 

It  is  for  this  reason  that  we  look  with  so 
great  pride  upon  the  growth  of  an  institution 
whose  express  object  is  to  cultivate  the  taste 
for  reading  among  us,  and  to  provide  means 
for  its  exercise.  I  refer  to  the  Mercantile  Li 
brary  Association.  It  is  a  good  beginning 
and  promises  well  for  the  future.  We  would 
place  it  next  to  the  institutions  of  religion  it- 


156  THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM. 

self,  as  a  means  of  promoting  virtue  and  dis- 
couraging vice.  We  mention  it  in  this  con- 
nection for  another  reason  also  ;  because  it  is 
not  only  intended  chiefly  for  the  benefit  of  our 
young  men,  but  because  it  is  chiefly  the  work 
of  our  young  men  themselves.  It  is  true,  in- 
deed, that  they  have  received  from  the  older 
part  of  the  community,  efficient  and  indispen- 
sable aid  ;  but  the  laboring  oar  has  been  in  the 
hands  of  young  men  themselves,  or  of  those 
who  are  but  just  passing  into  the  years  ol 
middle  life.  More  than  half  of  its  annual  sub- 
scribers are  young  men,  who  are  not  them- 
selves yet  established  in  business.  Its  grow- 
ing favor  in  this  community  is,  therefore,  one 
of  the  best  evidences  of  improvement.  Its  li- 
brary, although  not  large,  is  well  selected,  and, 
being  easily  accessible  to  young  men,  offers  to 
them  means  of  self-improvement  and  rational 
enjoyment,  which  no  young  man  is  wise  to 
neglect.  We  hope  that  the  spacious  rooms 
which  will  soon  be  ready  for  its  use  will  not  be 
too  large  for  the  accommodation  of  those  who 
desire  to  avail  themselves  of  its  privileges. 


THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM.  157 

Will  you  also  indulge  me  if  I  take  this  op- 
portunity of  paying  a  tribute  to  the  memory 
of  one,  of  whose  death,  in  a  distant  land,  we 
have  recently  heard.  Although  a  young  man, 
he  was  among  the  early  friends  of  the  institu- 
tion just  now  named,  and,  at  the  time  of  his 
leaving  this  city,  one  of  its  directors.  Him- 
self a  beginner  in  life,  he  gave  what  is  often 
better  than  money,  his  time  and  personal  at- 
tention to  its  interests.  I  refer  to  THEODORE 
CLARK.  From  his  boyhood  I  knew  him  well, 
and  watched  over  him  in  his  youth  and  early 
manhood,  not  only  as  his  pastor,  but  as  his 
friend.  His  death  is  to  me  a  personal  grief, 
and  to  this  church,  of  which  he  was  a  valued 
member,  an  irreparable  loss.  Although  he  had 
removed  for  the  time  to  a  distant  home,  his 
place  here  did  not  seem  to  be  vacant,  until 
now.  The  tears  which  fall  to  his  memory  are 
those  of  sincere  sorrow,  and  the  tribute  of  re- 
spect now  paid  is  also  the  tribute  of  affection. 

How  mysterious  are  those  dispensations  of 
Providence,  by  which  the  young  and  useful 
are  taken  away  in  the  beginning  of  their  ca- 


158  THE    WAYS    OF    WISDOM. 

reer !  But  the  dealings  of  God  are  not  meas- 
ured by  the  wisdom  of  men.  Death  knows  no 
distinction  either  of  age  or  place.  However 
young  and  strong,  the  warning  is  equally  to 
us  all.  Be  ye  ready  also,  for  in  a  day  and 
hour  when  ye  think  not,  the  Lord  corneth. 
Are  we  ready  now  ?  If  death  were  to  call  us 
hence  to-day  or  to-morrow,  could  we  obey  the 
summons  without  fear?  He  who  lives  as  he 
ought  is  always  prepared  to  die.  "  Rejoice, 
O  young  man,  in  thy  youth,"  saith  the  Scrip- 
ture, "  and  let  thy  heart  cheer  thee,  in  the  days 
of  thy  youth  ;  but  know  thou,  that  for  all  these 
things  God  shall  bring  thee  into  judgment." 
Therefore,  "  fear  God  and  keep  his  command- 
ments, for  this  is  the  whole  duty  of  man." 


LECTURE    VI. 


EELIGION 

"  I  beseech  you  therefore,  brethren,  by  the  mercies  of  God,  that  ye  pre- 
sent your  bodies  a  living  sacrifice,  holy,  acceptable  unto  God,  which  is 
your  reasonable  service."  —  Rom.  xii.  1. 

MY  previous  lectures  have  been  chiefly  upon 
moral  subjects.  We  .have  considered  the  du- 
ties devolving  upon  us,  in  the  ordinary  rela- 
tions of  life,  with  reference  to  our  usefulness 
and  happiness  in  this  world.  The  motives  by 
which  the  necessity  of  a  good  life  has  been 
urged,  have  been  drawn,  in  part,  from  those 
considerations  of  propriety,  of  self-respect,  and 
even  of  worldly  success,  which  belong  to  this 
life  alone,  and  are  in  themselves  considered 
motives  of  expediency,  as  much  as  of  right.  I 
have,  indeed,  endeavored  to  preserve  an  unde* 
current  of  religious  feeling,  and  thereby  impart 
seriousness  and  solemnity  to  our  thoughts. 


160  RELIGION. 

My  own  mind  has  never  bt  en  drawn,  even  for 
a  moment,  from  the  responsibility  under  which 
we  stand  to  God.  The  truth  that  the  present 
life  is  also  a  preparation  for  the  future,  has 
been  continually  present  to  me.  Even  in 
those  remarks  which  may  have  seemed  most 
exclusively  prudential  and  worldly,  I  have  de- 
sired to  make  all  rest  on  this  foundation. 

If  the  present  life  were  all  of  which  we  have 
promise,  there  are,  perhaps,  sufficient  motives 
to  keep  a  sensible  man  from  the  dissipations 
and  wickedness  of  the  .world,  and  to  induce 
him  to  spend  his  time  in  a  course  of  sobriety 
and  usefulness ;  but  it  is  only  when  we  think 
of  the  present  life  as  the  childhood  of  the  soul, 
and  that  the  character  which  the  soul  forms 
for  itself  here  must  go  with  it  to  the  threshold 
of  Eternity,  that  we  can  discern  the  infinite 
importance  of  goodness,  and  the  fearfulness  of 
that  wrong  which  we  do  to  our  own  souls 
through  sin.  As  we  say  to  the  child,  to  be 
diligent  in  his  school-days,  because  upon  this 
his  character  as  a  man  will  depend,  so  do  we 
say  of  the  present  life,  that  we  should  spend  it 


RELIGION.  161 

well,  because  we  are  now  educating  ourselves 
for  good  or  evil  in  the  world  to  come.  Is  it 
not  a  thoug.it  to  star.le  us  from  indifference  7 
Does  it  not  confer  sacredness  upon  the  com- 
mon duties  of  life,  and  the  brand  of  deeper  in- 
famy upon  its  sins?  If  it  were  only  the  re- 
spectability and  the  comfort,  the  rational  en- 
joyment and  usefuh^^s  of  a  life  which  must 
end  in  fifty  or  sixty  years,  we  might  almost 
excuse  ourselves  in  sin,  by  saying  that  after  all 
it  is  a  matter  of  small  importance  and  will 
soon  be  over ;  but  when  we  think  of  it  all,  as 
only  the  beginning  now,  the  dread  consequen- 
ces of  which  will  be  developed  in  the  unknown 
but  never  ending  future,  our  hearts  are  sobered 
from  their  folly,  our  consciences  are  wakened 
from  their  sleep. 

I  would  not  urge  upon  you  the  fear  of  hell, 
as  the  leading  motive  to  a  good  life,  for  I  find 
no  authority  in  Scripture,  in  the  preaching  of 
Christ  or  his  Apostles,  for  so  doing;  although 
they  did  not  conceal  the  "terrors  of  the  Lord," 
they  used  them  "  for  the  persuasion  of  men." 
They  spoke  plainly  of  the  terrible  consequen- 
11 


RELIGION 


ces  of  sin,  both  here  and  hereafter;  but  it  was 
chiefly  by  the  beauty  of  goodness  and  by  the 
love  of  God  that  they  made  their  appeal.  "  I 
beseech  you  therefore,  by  the  mercies  of  God," 
said  the  Apostle,  "  to  present  your  bodies  a  liv- 
ing sacrifice,  holy,  acceptable  unto  God,  which 
is  your  reasonable  service."  The  true  Chris- 
tian preaching  calls  attention  to  the  dreadful 
consequences  of  sin,  only  so  far  as  to  make 
the  pursuit  of  virtue  the  reasonable  service  of 
God.  Nothing,  I  suppose,  has  contributed 
more  to  bring  religion  into  contempt,  than  the 
manner  in  which  the  fear  of  hell  has  been 
made  "  the  hangman's  whip,  to  keep  the  world 
in  order."  It  is  sometimes  used  as  a  motive, 
not  less  mercenary  than  the  most  common  re- 
wards of  virtue  in  the  present  life.  We  may 
learn  to  think  of  heaven  and  hell  as  the  pay- 
ment for  so  much  virtue,  or  the  punishment 
for  so  much  sin,  just  as  we  think  of  money  re- 
ceived in  payment  for  work  done,  or  of  the  jail 
as  the  penalty  of  crime.  It  is  better  to  con- 
duct ourselves  well,  even  from  such  motives 
as  these,  than  not  at  all  ;  but  the  motives  are 


RELIGION.  163 

certainly  of  a  low  kind,  and  not  well  <-alcu» 
lated  to  develop  a  high  order  of  virtue. 

If  we  can  love  God  only  so  long  as  the  fear 
of  his  anger  is  before  us,  our  case  is,  at  the 
best,  but  a  bad  one.  If  sin  is  hateful  to  us, 
only  because  its  outward  punishment,  either 
here  or  hereafter,  is  terrible,  our  hearts  may  in 
fact  be  loving  the  sin  itself  and  yearning  for 
its  commission  all  the  time.  We  must  rise  to 
a  much  higher  state  of  feeling  than  this,  before 
we  are  properly  Evangelical  or  Gospel  Chris- 
tians. We  must  learn  to  feel  that  virtue  is  its 
own  exceeding  great  reward,  and  that  we  are 
paid,  over  and  over  again,  for  all  our  exertions 
to  do  right,  for  all  acts  of  self-denial,  for  all 
perseverance  in  well-doing,  by  the  character 
which  we  are  thus  giving  to  our  own  souls,  by 
the  communion  which  we  are  thus  holding 
with  the  pure  and  good  and  above  all  with 
God  himself.  We  should  feel,  that  in  the 
commission  of  a  base  action,  or  the  indulgence 
of  bad  passions,  the  baseness  and  degradation 
are  themselves  the  greatest  punishment.  The 
hope  of  heaven  then  becomes  a  right  and  wor- 


164 


RELIGION. 


thy  motive,  because  its  reward  is  in  the  con- 
tinuance and  perfect  completion,  through  eter- 
nity, of  that  serene  delight  which  begins  here 
The  fear  of  future  retribution  then  becomes  an 
availing  motive,  of  which  we  need  not  b(; 
ashamed,  because  it  is  chiefly  the  continuance 
of  that  same  baseness  of  character  to  which 
sin  now  degrades  us,  and  by  which,  as  we  are 
separated  from  God's  love  now,  we  have  rea- 
son to  fear  that  we  shall  be  separated  from 
him  more  widely  hereafter. 

Religion  ought  not  to  be  made  the  calcula- 
tion of  profit  and  loss.  As  the  body  hungers 
for  its  daily  food,  because  needful  for  its  main- 
tenance, so  should  the  soul  hunger  and  thirst 
after  righteousness,  because  necessary  for  its 
full  development,  for  its  healthy  action,  for  the 
maintenance  of  its  real  life.  As  spiritual  be- 
ings, we  live  just  in  proportion  to  our  degree 
of  goodness.  When  we  commit  sin,  the  soul 
languishes.  If  it  were  possible  to  be  com 
pletely  buried  in  sin,  the  soul  would  die.  Jt 
finds  no  elements  of  life  in  wickedness,  but  all 
its  faculties  are  cramped,  its  beauty  lost,  its 


RELIGION.  165 

capacity  of  improvement  impaired.  Compare 
the  soul  of  one  whose  life  has  been  consecrat- 
ed to  goodness  and  truth,  with  that  of  one 
whose  whole  life  has  been  wasted  in  self- 
indulgence,  or  given  to  the  pursuit  of  sin. 
When  they  are  both  called  to  the  judgment- 
seat  of  Christ,  how  differently  do  they  appear! 
I  do  not  now  say  how  different  must  be  the 
judgment  pronounced  on  them,  but  how  dif- 
ferent they  are  in  themselves.  You  would 
hardly  suppose  them  to  be  of  the  same  fam- 
ily or  kindred.  They  seem  to  be  of  a  differ- 
ent nature.  Equally  different,  therefore,  must 
be  their  destination.  The  sentence  is  in  them- 
selves already,  "  Depart  from  me,  ye  cursed," 
or  "  Come  unto  me,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father." 
Nothing,  however,  can  be  more  absurd,  than 
to  think  of  the  heavenly  life  as  being,  in  a 
meritorious  sense,  the  reward  of  a  good  life 
on  earth.  The  Saviour  taught  that  "when 
we  have  done  all  we  are  unprofitable  servants, 
doing  only  what  is  our  duty  to  do."  That  is  to 
say,  God  may  properly  claim  our  best  service, 
and  therefore  we  can  do  nothing  to  establish 


166 


RELIGION. 


a  claim  upon  him  in  return.  We  should  not 
speak  of  future  salvation,  as  if  it  were  a  debt 
due  from  God  to  us,  to  be  claimed,  just  as  the 
aborer  claims  payment  for  the  work  he  has 
done.  It  is  as  though  you  were  to  confer 
benefits,  day  after  day,  and  year  after  year, 
upon  some  one  who  has  no  claim  upon  you, 
and  he  should  demand  the  continuance  of 
such  benefits  as  a  right.  Even  if  our  whole 
duty  were  performed,  the  hope  of  eternal  life 
must  be  founded  upon  the  continuance  of  the 
Divine  goodness,  the  faithfulness  of  the  Di- 
vine promise ;  but  when  we  confess,  as  we 
must,  that,  instead  of  our  whole  duty,  not  one 
half  has  been  done,  the  absurdity  of  making 
that  imperfect  performance  a  claim  to  infi- 
nite reward  is  sufficiently  evident.  To  escape 
punishment  for  what  remains  undone,  or  for 
what  has  been  done  badly,  is  in  itself  a  great 
deliverance.  Our  relation  towards  God  is 
that  of  sinners  who  ask  forgiveness,  of  peni- 
tents seeking  for  pardon.  When,  therefore,  in 
addition  to  the  forgiveness  asked,  a  life  of  joy 
is  promised,  a  life  of  communion  with  the 


RELIGION.  167 

just  made  perfect,  with  the  holy  Jesus  and 
with  the  infinite  God  himself,  our  hearts  over- 
flow with  gratitude,  and  all  thoughts  of  our 
own  merit  are  for  ever  put  away. 

We  know  that  repentance  and  a  renewed 
life  are  made  a  condition,  and  they  are  an  in- 
dispensable condition,  of  future  happiness.  I 
do  not  know  of  any  part  of  Scripture  which 
encourages  us  to  hope  for  salvation  upon  any 
other  terms.  But  the  condition  on  which  a 
benefit  is  conferred,  is  very  different  from  its 
procuring  cause.  You  may  promise  to  a  poor 
man  that,  if  he  will  come  to  your  house,  you 
will  relieve  his  wants;  his  coming  is  therefore 
a  condition,  upon  the  fulfilment  of  which  your 
assistance  will  be  given  ;  but  who  would  pre- 
tend that  it  is  in  any  proper  sense  meritorious  ? 
The  gift  would  come  from  your  liberality,  as 
much  as  if  no  condition  had  been  annexed. 
Or,  if  you  were  to  receive  a  young  person  as 
a  scholar,  with  the  promise,  that,  if  he  uses  his 
advantages  well  up  to  a  certain  point,  so  as 
to  prepare  himself  for  greater,  they  shall  be 
given  to  him  ;  in  one  sense  this  would  appear 


168  RELIGION. 

as  a  reward,  but  the  obligation  resting  upon 
you  would  come  only  from  your  own  promise, 
and  not  at  all  on  the  ground  of  his  merit. 
Your  promise  itself  was  given  gratuitously, 
and  its  fulfilment  is  only  the  completion  of  a 
kindness  begun. 

So  far  as  the  idea  of  reward  is  contained  in 
the  promise  of  future  bliss,  it  is  contained  in 
the  illustration  now  given.  We  are  placed 
here,  the  children  of  God,  surrounded  by  bless- 
ings, with  abundant  opportunities  of  im- 
provement, the  tokens  of  God's  love  every- 
where present,  and  with  the  promise,  that,  if 
we  use  these  present  blessings  for  our  own 
education  in  goodness  and  truth,  so  as  to  be 
capable  of  receiving  greater  blessings  hereafter, 
they  shall  be  given  to  us.  Use  the  earth  well, 
and  heaven  shall  be  yours.  Educate  your- 
selves for  the  higher  life,  and  you  shall  enter 
upon  it.  Follow  God's  present  guidance,  and 
he  will  lead  you  from  glory  to  glory,  from  one 
height  of  excellence  and  enjoyment  to  another, 
through  the  ages  of  eternity.  If  we  call  the 
fulfilment  of  these  gracious  promises  the  re- 


RELIGION.  169 

ward  of  a  Christian  life,  it  is  not,  in  the  strict 
sense  of  reward,  as  a  debt  from  nim  who 
gives  it,  which  we  can  claim  on  the  score  of 
merit,  but  only  on  the  faithfulness  of  him  by 
whom  the  promise  is  made.  It  is  better  to 
say  that  the  regenerate  life  is  the  condition 
on  which  salvation  is  freely  offered  through 
Jesus  Christ. 

And  why  is  it  made  a  condition  ?  Not  be- 
cause God  gains  any  thing  by  its  fulfilment; 
he  requires  nothing  of  us,  as  though  he  needed 
it,  "  seeing  that  in  him  we  live  and  move  and 
have  our  being."  Our  best  holiness  is  but  the 
working  of  his  spirit  in  our  hearts,  and  the 
part  which  we  do  is  to  submit  ourselves  to 
the  heavenly  guidance.  It  is  made  the  con- 
dition, so  far  as  we  can  understand  the  sub- 
ject, just  as  each  step  in  knowledge  is  the 
condition  of  further  progress.  It  is  imposed 
upon  us,  not  by  an  arbitrary  decree,  but  by 
he  law  under  which  we  live.  "  To  him  that 
hath  shall  be  given,"  is  the  law  of  spiritual 
progress.  Nothing  can  be  given  to  those  who 
have  not  the  capacity  to  receive  it.  I  believe 


170  RELIGION 

that  God  always  confers  upon  us  the  greatest 
amount  ol  spiritual  blessings  that  we  are  ca- 
pable to  receive.  By  using  the  present  gift 
the  capacity  enlarges,  and  the  human  soul, 
through  the  continuance  of  God's  grace,  ex- 
pands to  an  angel's  form.  This  is  eternal  life, 
of  which  we  must  have  the  earnest  here,  if 
we  would  enter  upon  that  greater  promise 
hereafter. 

In  the  same  manner,  a  wrong  idea  is  often 
entertained  of  the  punishment  threatened ;  as 
though  our  sins  were  a  wrong  done  to  God, 
an  injury  inflicted  upon  him,  for  which  he  will 
take  vengeance.  But  the  Scriptures  say,  "  He 
that  committeth  sin  wrongeth  his  own  soul." 
How  can  the  finite  injure  the  Infinite?  How 
can  the  creature  inflict  a  wrong  upon  the 
Creator,  who  sustains  him  in  life  and  gives 
him  the  power  by  which  the  wrong  is  done? 
How  can  we  think  of  God  as  thirsting  for 
vengeance  against  those,  whom  by  a  breath 
he  could  sweep  away  for  ever?  That  contest 
would  be  too  unequal.  It  is  true  that  the 
Scripture  uses  language,  a  literal  interpreta- 


RELIGION.  171 

tion  of  which  would  convey  this  idea  of 
punishment,  but  a  moment's  thought  shows 
its  true  meaning.  The  explanation  of  all 
God's  dealing  with  us,  however  severe  it  may 
be,  and  of  all  the  threatenings  contained  in 
his  word,  is  found  in  the  twofold  character 
of  God;  first,  as  our  Heavenly  Father,  and, 
secondly,  as  a  being  infinitely  wise  and  holy. 

As  a  Father,  he  directs  all  things  for  our 
good,  but,  leaving  to  us  freedom  to  obey  or 
disobey  him,  to  use  the  means  of  grace  or  to 
neglect  them,  we  are  of  course  subject  to  sin 
and  the  ruin  it  produces.  As  a  Being  infi- 
nitely wise  and  holy,  our  departure  from  sin 
and  return  to  goodness  is  absolutely  indispen- 
sable to  his  favor ;  it  is  equally  indispensable 
to  our  own  real  happiness.  Whatever  degree 
of  suffering,  therefore,  may  be  necessary  un- 
der God's  parental  discipline,  however  terri- 
ble it  may  seem  and  however  terrible  it  may 
be,  is  the  inevitable  consequence.  The  moral 
government  of  God,  in  which  holiness  is  made 
the  absolute  law,  must  be  maintained.  The 
"terrors  of  the  Lord"  therefore  sufficiently 


172  RELIGION. 

appear.  But  there  is  nothing,  in  the  infliction 
of  his  severest  sentences,  like  human  ven- 
geance, or  the  expression  of  anger  as  a  per- 
sonal feeling.  We  do  not  pretend  to  interpret 
all  the  principles  of  the  Divine  government, 
as  though  we  sat  upon  the  judgment-seat, 
but  the  general  principles  now  laid  down  may 
be  asserted,  we  think,  with  the  utmost  confi- 
dence. It  is  a  view  of  religion,  at  the  same 
time  the  most  cheering  and  most  alarming  we 
can  take.  It  delivers  us  from  superstitious 
fears,  from  slavish  trembling  before  God, 
while  it  reveals  to  us  the  absolute  necessity 
of  a  good  and  holy  life.  There  is  no  escape 
from  it.  It  is  required  not  only  by  the  com- 
mands of  God,  but  by  the  nature  of  God 
itself.  It  is  required  also  by  our  own  nature, 
which  is,  in  this  respect,  created  after  the 
image  of  God. 

It  thus  appears  in  what  manner  the  Chris- 
dan  life  is  the  condition  of  salvation,  not  as 
a  procuring  cause,  but  as  the  indispensable 
preparation.  But  the  question  now  arises,  In 
what  does  that  preparation  consist?  What 


RELIGION.  173 

do  we  mean  by  a  Christian  life  as  a  condition 
of  acceptance?  This  is  an  important  ques- 
ion,  and  upon  its  answer  our  views  of  practi- 
cal religion  will  chiefly  depend.  The  same 
question  was  proposed  by  a  prophet  in  olden 
time,  and  his  answer  will  guide  us  to  the 
truth.  "  What  is  it,  O  man,  that  the  Lord  \ 
thy  God  requireth  of  thee,  but  this,  to  do 
justly,  love  mercy,  and  walk  humbly  with  thy 
God?"  It  consists,  therefore,  of  two  parts; 
the  faithful  and  kind  performance  of  our 
duties  to  each  other,  and  the  spirit  of  devotion 
towards  God.  Both  parts  are  equally  impor- 
tant, and  neither  is  perfect  without  the  other. 
The  same  answer  is  given  by  Christ  himself, 
although  in  different  words,  when  he  says 
that  there  are  but  two  essential  command- 
ments, of  which  the  first  is  "  to  love  the 
Lord  our  God  with  all  the  heart,"  and  the 
second,  "  to  love  our  neighbor  as  we  love 
ourselves." 

There  is  a  great  difference  between  morality 
and  religion.  We  may  say,  indeed,  that  mo- 
rality cannot  be  perfect,  without  religious  prin- 


174  RELIGION. 

ciple  for  its  foundation ;  and  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  this  is  true.  Worldly  principles  are  not 
enough  to  make  a  man  truly  good.  But  in 
idea  we  may  consider  morality  quite  abstract- 
ly from  religion,  and  in  practical  life  we  find 
many  instances  of  those  who  are  called  moral 
men,  and  who  are  so  in  all  the  common  rela- 
tions of  life,  but  upon  whose  hearts  the  influ- 
ence of  religion  has  not  yet  been  shed.  World- 
ly and  selfish  motives  are  enough  to  conform 
our  characters  to  a  high  standard  of  respectabil- 
ity, and  our  natural  affections,  if  well  directed 
ill  early  life,  will  lead  to  the  practice  of  those 
virtues,  upon  which  the  comfort  of  our  fami- 
lies and  the  peace  of  society  depend.  Some- 
times a  degree  of  excellence  is  thus  attained 
deserving  of  great  respect.  We  do  not  un- 
dervalue it.  Such  obedience  is  very  often,  as 
it  is  said  of  the  law,  "  the  schoolmaster 
which  brings  us  to  Christ "  ;  but  it  is  evident, 
even  to  superficial  thought,  that,  however  cor- 
rect the  outward  conduct  may  be,  its  real 
character  depends  upon  the  motive  by  which 
it  is  actuated.  You  may  describe  a  man 


RELIGION.  175 

who,  to  human  observation,  wrongs  no  per- 
son, but  fulfils  all  his  duties  with  scrupulous 
exactness,  of  whom  you  may  yet  say  that 
God  is  not  in  all  his  thoughts.  You  may 
imagine  such  an  one,  we  do  not  say  that  you 
will  find  him  in  actual  life,  but  you  may 
imagine  him  to  be  impelled  in  all  that  he  does 
by  motives  of  self-interest.  It  may  all  be 
nothing  but  a  refined  calculation  of  profit  and 
loss.  It  may  be  all  in  the  service  of  the  world 
and  from  the  fear  of  man.  Now,  however  es- 
timable his  exterior  may  be,  and  however  val- 
uable in  the  common  relations  of  life,  we  can- 
not help  admitting  that  the  soul,  when  actuated 
by  no  higher  motives  than  these,  is  very  far  from 
its  own  highest  advancement.  Change  its  rul- 
ing principle ;  let  the  supreme  love  of  good- 
ness take  possession  of  it,  for  goodness'  sake ; 
infuse  into  it  the  martyr's  spirit  of  self-sacri- 
fice ;  let  self-consecration  take  the  place  of 
self-love ;  let  God  become  the  object  of  su- 
preme worship,  instead  of  tht,  world,  and  how 
complete  a  change  in  the  spiritual  nature  is 
produced !  It  is  as  complete  regeneration  as 


176  RELIGION. 

the  change  from  vice  to  virtue ;  as  complete, 
we  say,  and  as  real,  although  not  as  open  to 
outward  observation. 

Such  is  an  extreme  case,  but  it  serves  to 
show  the  essential  difference  between  morality 
and  religion.  The  common  experience  of  life 
shows  it  equally  well,  and  in  a  more  practical 
manner.  As  the  world  goes,  moral  men  are 
very  frequently  not  religious  men  ;  and  what 
is  still  more  unfortunate,  those  who  claim  to 
be  religious  are  not  always  moral.  This  is  a 
manifest  and  gross  inconsistency,  and  proves 
that  their  religion  itself  is  either  shallow  or 
hypocritical;  but  instances  of  it  are  not  un- 
common. Men  who  have  their  seasons  of  fer- 
vent prayer,  who  are  carried  even  beyond  the 
bounds  of  reason  by  religious  zeal,  who  make 
many  professions,  and  that  too  not  without 
sincerity,  are  yet  sometimes  known  as  men  not 
to  be  trusted,  who  will  be  guilty  of  overreach- 
ing, falsehood,  and  other  offences,  which  the 
common  morality  of  life  rebukes.  The  relig- 
ion of  such  persons  is  not  always  hypocritical, 
but  more  frequently  shallow.  It  is  founded 


RELIGION.  177 

upon  wrong  principles.  It  is  the  result  of 
wrong  education.  It  comes  from  the  idea 
that  the  worship  of  God  is  something  exter- 
nal, which  he  requires  for  his  own  sake, 
instead  of  that  "reasonable  service,"  which 
consists  in  presenting  the  body  a  living  sacri- 
fice to  him.  When  we  learn  that  "  they 
who  worship  God  must  worship  him  in  spirit 
and  in  truth,"  and  that  no  worship  can  be  ac- 
ceptable to  him  which  comes  from  an  impure 
or  bigoted  heart,  or  which  is  accompanied 
by  an  impure  or  dishonest  life,  then  the  relig- 
ion which  tries  to  dispense  with  morality,  an<" 
the  faith  which  tries  to  do  without  works,  wil 
be  abandoned.  Religion,  if  rightly  consid  ^ 
ered,  is  the  spirit  in  which  we  live.  When 
we  have  the  spirit  of  Christ,  we  have  the 
Christian  religion.  In  proportion  as  we  ob- 
tain it  we  are  Christians.  It  must  penetrate 
and  gradually  purify  our  whole  nature.  It 
must  govern  us  in  all  the  departments  of  life. 
It  begins  with  that  fear  of  God  which  is  the 
fear  to  commit  sin,  and  is  perfected  in  that 
love  of  God  which  leads  to  the  love  of  good- 
12 


178  RELIGION. 

ness.  It  infuses  into  all  our  actions  a  heaven- 
ly purpose,  and  gives  to  all  our  steps  a  heaven- 
ward direction.  It  gradually  becomes  the 
ruling  motive  and  gives  a  new  character,  al- 
most a  higher  natuie,  to  the  soul.  We  do 
not  say  that  this  is  at  once  accomplished,  but 
it  is  the  work  proposed.  It  is  the  tendency 
which  Religion  gives  to  the  soul,  conforming 
it  to  that  which  is  heavenly,  raising  it  above 
that  which  is  earthly,  taking  away  the  selfish 
life  and  bringing  the  life  of  God  into  the  soul 
of  man.  It  holds  before  us  the  perfect  ex- 
ample of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  and, 
teaching  us  that  we  also  are  the  children  of 
God,  encourages  us  to  press  forward  towards 
the  mark  of  our  high  calling.  It  commands 
us  to  become  like  Jesus,  and  in  that  one 
word  includes  the  highest  self-devotion  to 
God,  and  the  most  careful  performance  of  all 
A  the  duties  of  life. 

What  I  would  chiefly  urge  upon  you  now 
is  the  necessity  of  religion,  as  a  pervading  in- 
fluence of  life,  to  every  one  of  us,  especially  to 
those  who  are  young.  If  there  are  any  whose 


RELIGION.  17& 

passions  are  already  subdued  under  other  dis- 
cipline, they  will  still  need  its  comforting  and 
purifying  presence  ;  but  the  young  cannot  dis- 
pense with  it,  without  the  greatest  risk  even  to 
their  common  morality.  Religion  is  needed 
by  them  in  the  development  of  their  faculties, 
in  the  education  of  their  minds,  in  the  govern- 
ment of  life.  It  is  the  balance-wheel,  to  im- 
part  steady  and  regular  action  to  those  im- 
pulses, which  will  otherwise  have  unequal  and 
destructive  power.  It  is  needed  to  give  them 
consistency  of  character,  to  remove  them  from 
that  strong  influence  of  example  which  is  the 
ruin  of  so  many,  to  give  them  the  power  of 
saying  NO,  when  they  are  tempted.  Religion 
is  the  highest  and  strongest  principle  of  self- 
guidance.  It  enables  one  to  stand  alone,  if  in 
a  right  position  ;  to  refuse  following  the  mul- 
titude in  doing  evil.  Ij^pp^aiio^youjig^nen 
need  such  an  influence.  Do  you 


not  often  feel  your  resolutions  giving  way,  be- 
cause they  have  no  higher  support  than  your 
own  will  ?  Would  it  not  often  be  a  relief  to 
you  when  tempted,  to  think,  I  cannot  do  this 


180  RELIGION. 

because  my  religion  forbids  me  ?  If  that  si- 
lent appeal  were  open  to  you,  would  it  not 
enable  you  to  escape  from  many  of  the  false 
judgments  of  the  world? 

I  know  that  young  persons  are  not  apt  to 
take  this  view  of  the  subject.  They  are  more 
apt  to  think  that  religion  is  intended  as  a  con- 
solation to  those  who  are  in  trouble  ;  as  a  ref- 
uge to  the  alarmed  and  repenting  sinner;  as 
a  staff  to  support  the  declining  years  of  the 
aged ;  as  the  promise  which  allays  the  fears 
of  the  dying.  It  is  indeed  all  this,  but  it  is  al- 
so something  more.  It  is  the  purifying  influ- 
ence of  life,  needed  by  the  young,  not  less  than 
by  the  old  ;  by  the  prosperous,  not  less  than  by 
the  unfortunate.  It  is  as  important  to  us  in 
the  fulness  of  strength  as  upon  the  dying  bed. 

There  are  some  who  think  that  they  may 
spend  the  whole  of  life  as  they  please,  in  friv- 
olous worldliness  or  heartless  sin  ;  and  that  at 
the  close  of  life,  or  even  upon  the  death-bed, 
they  can  make  it  all  right  between  themselves 
and  God,  by  a  few  earnest  prayers  and  by 
casting  themselves  upon  the  merits  of  Jesus 


RELIGION.  181 

Christ.  How  uncertain  is  such  a  reliance, 
even  at  the  best !  How  can  we  tell  that  death 
may  not  be  so  sudden  as  to  give  not  a  day  or 
an  hour  for  preparation  ?  How  little  oppor- 
tunity of  thought  do  the  days  of  sickness  af- 
ford, when  the  body  is  tortured  by  pain,  and 
the  mind  disturbed  from  its  healthy  action, 
and  the  anxious  faces  of  friends  fill  us  with 
anxiety,  and  our  own  hearts  are  trembling  be- 
cause we  are  not  ready  to  die!  But  still  more, 
what  right  have  we  to  expect  that  God  will 
hear  that  last  despairing  cry,  of  those  who 
through  their  whole  lives  have  refused  to  call 
upon  him  ?  We  would  not  extinguish  that 
hope  when  there  is  no  other;  but  neither 
Scripture  nor  reason  justifies  us  in  making  it 
our  chief  reliance.  It  is  a  living  sacrifice 
which  God  demands,  not  a  dying  sacrifice., 
Under  the  Jewish  law,  he  who  brought  a  dis- 
eased or  imperfect  offering  to  the  altar,  from 
his  herds  or  flocks,  was  rebuked  and  rejected. 
The  offering  was  required  to  be  without  spot 
or  stain.  Under  the  Christian  dispensation, 
shall  we  do  less  honor  to  the  God  and  Father 


}82  RELIGION. 

of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ?  Shall  we  give  the 
vigor  of  our  days  to  worldly  and  selfish  pur- 
suits, and  at  last  come  with  reluctant  steps, 
with  the  poor  wreck  of  a  decaying  body,  and 
offer  that  to  God  for  his  acceptance  ?  There 
is  a  meanness  in  it,  a  baseness  of  calculation, 
from  which  our  hearts  revolt.  To  make  Him, 
who  ought  to  be  the  first  and  highest  in  our 
thoughts,  the  last  resort  of  our  feebleness,  is 
little  short  of  blasphemy.  To  acknowledge, 
as  we  do,  that  Christ  died  to  redeem  us  from 
sin  and  death,  but  deliberately  to  put  him 
away  from  our  thoughts  and  refuse  obedience 
to  his  commands,  until  all  our  worldly  pur- 
poses have  been  accomplished,  and  all  our 
sinful  appetites  indulged,  and  then  turn  to  him, 
saying  :  "  Now  we  will  accept  thy  salvation ; 
now  we  will  rely  upon  thy  merits  " ;  —  does  not 
such  a  hope,  even  when  it  comes,  border  upon 
despair?  What  then  shall  we  say  of  those 
who  hold  it  before  them  as  their  plan  of  life, 
and  who  devote  their  days  to  sin,  with  such  an 
expectation  of  final  escape  ? 
\  There  are  some  who  neglect  religion  in 


RELIGION.  183 

their  youth,  because  the*-  think  that  by  and 
by  it  will  be  easier  to  become  religious.  They 
flatter  themselves  that  youthful  folly  will  die 
out,  of  itself;  that  the  strength  of  their  pas- 
sions will  become  less,  and  the  work  of  self- 
government  easier ;  that  the  temptations  of  life 
will  not  be  so  many,  nor  so  hard  to  resist; 
that  as  they  grow  older,  religious  thought  will 
become  more  natural  to  them,  and  worldliness 
less  attractive.  They  hope,  therefore,  to  grow 
into  religion  by  the  natural  progress  of  life. 
In  other  words,  starting  in  a  wrong  direction, 
and  travelling  as  fast  as  they  well  can,  they 
expect  to  arrive  at  the  right  conclusion  of  their 
journey.  The  whole  experience  of  life  shows 
their  folly.  When  did  you  ever  know  bad 
passions  to  become  less  by  indulgence  ?  When 
did  wrong  habits  ever  correct  themselves,  or 
become  easier  of  correction  by  continuance? 
You  say  that  it  is  hard  for  you  to  be  religious 
now ;  I  grant  it.  It  will  require  your  best 
exertions  and  the  assistance  of  God's  spirit, 
which  he  has  also  promised.  But  it  will  be 
harder  next  year,  and  every  year  that  you  live, 


184  RELIGION. 

until  it  becomes  almost  impossible.  Begin  the 
work  now,  enlist  the  power  of  habit  on  the  side 
of  virtue,  make  religion  the  ruling  principle, 
and  you  will  then  find  that  as  you  grow  older 
the  work  will  become  easier.  Walking  in  a 
right  direction,  surmounting  one  obstacle  after 
another,  although  you  may  seem  to  progress 
slowly,  yet  every  step  is  so  much  gained,  and 
your  whole  life  will  accomplish  a  great  deal. 
Then,  at  the  close  of  life,  you  may  cast  your- 
self upon  the  mercy  of  God,  of  which  you  will 
still  have  enough  need,  with  a  reasonable 
hope,  yea,  with  a  strong  confidence,  that  his 
(V  promise  of  salvation  through  Jesus  Christ  will 
be  fulfilled. 

But  there  are  some,  who  admit  all  I  have 
now  said,  but  upon  whom  it  has  no  practical 
influence.  They  admit  that  religion  is  the 
strongest  influence  that  can  be  brought  to  bear 
upon  them.  They  admit  its  absolute  neces- 
sity;  they  do  not  believe  in  a  death-bed  re- 
pentance ;  yet  they  remain  irreligious,  and  do 
not  even  put  themselves  under  religious  in 
struction.  And  this,  not  from  a  determinate 


RELIGION.  185 

purpose  to  neglect  religion,  but 'for  reasons 
which  are  scarcely  reasons  at  all.  Perhaps  it 
is  only  from  a  habit  of  procrastination.  Some 
decided  step  is  needed  in  the  beginning,  some 
change  in  their  ordinary  mode  of  life ;  and  as 
there  seems  to  be  no  necessity  for  beginning 
to-day,  they  wait  until  to-morrow ;  until  grad- 
ually the  intention  itself  dies  away,  and  the 
habits  of  irreligion  become  confirmed. 

I  have  also  known  many  persons,  who  have 
suffered  the  better  part  of  life  to  pass  without 
placing  themselves  under  religious  influences, 
because  they  have  not  quite  determined  what 
church  to  attend.  Their  religious  opinions 
are  not  fixed.  They  visit  sometimes  one  place 
of  worship  and  sometimes  another,  or,  in  the 
doubt  where  to  go,  do  not  go  anywhere  ;  so 
that  their  thoughts  become  scattered,  the  reg- 
ularity of  habit  is  broken  up,  their  opinions, 
instead  of  becoming  more  settled,  are  more 
wavering,  and  the  result  is  complete  indiffer- 
ence or  scepticism.  Let  me,  therefore,  in  con- 
clusion, say  a  few  words  upon  this  subject.  I 
cannot  properly  now  enter  upon  a  discussion 


186  RELIGION. 

of  religious  doctrines,  nor  do  any  thing  to  set- 
tle your  minds  concerning  them.  For  I  can 
honestly  say,  that  I  have  had  no  sectarian  pur- 
pose to  accomplish  in  these  lectures.  It  is  a 
matter  of  secondary  importance  to  me,  wheth- 
er those  who  have  heard  them  are  led  to  make 
this  their  place  of  worship,  or  some  other.  If 
they  are  awakened  to  the  necessity  of  religion 
and  encouraged  in  the  practice  of  virtue,  I 
shall  be  abundantly  content.  But  I  may  take 
the  liberty  of  advising  every  young  man  to  se- 
lect some  place  of  public  worship  as  his  own, 
and  to  occupy  his  seat  there  as  regularly  as 
the  Sunday  comes.  I  do  not  mean  that  he 
should  never  go  to  any  church  but  his  own, 
for  it  is  useful  at  times  to  go  elsewhere,  to 
keep  him  from  becoming  narrow-minded  and 
bigoted.  But  he  should  have  his  own  custom- 
ary place  of  worship,  where  he  will  attend,  un- 
less sufficient  reason  leads  him  for  the  time  to 
some  other. 

He  will  soon  find  his  account  in  this.  It  is 
not  that  a  single  sermon,  or  many  sermons, 
will  do  him  much  good.  Sermons  are  very 


RELIGION.  18*7 

often  dull ;  the  subjects  treated  are  often  such 
as  do  not  interest  the  young,  and  the  hour 
spent  at  church  will  sometimes  be  the  longest 
in  the  day.  You  may  think  that  you  would 
have  done  better  to  stay  at  home  and  read, 
and  so  far  as  mere  instruction  is  concerned 
this  will  sometimes  be  true.  But  the  general 
influence  of  the  House  of  Prayer  is,  neverthe- 
less, in  the  highest  degree  beneficial.  I  am 
disposed  to  think  it  almost  indispensable,  as  a 
means  of  religious  improvement.  You  will 
find  very  few  persons  who  neglect  it  without 
injury  to  themselves.  It  is  not  so  much  the 
instruction  imparted,  although  that  is  some- 
thing, but  a  higher  direction  is  given  to  the 
thoughts ;  the  eager  pursuit  of  worldly  things 
is  moderated  ;  our  sins  are  rebuked,  if  not  by 
the  sermon,  yet  by  the  Scripture  read  and  the 
prayers  offered ;  we  are  reminded  of  many 
things  which,  although  we  know  them  well 
enough,  we  are  prone  to  forget ;  above  all,  we 
near  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  as  our  Saviour, 
and  of  the  Infinite  God  as  our  Heavenly  Fa- 
ther, and  as  our  hearts  respond,  in  unison  with 


188  RELIGION. 

many  others,  to  those  blessed  words,  which 
are  more  dear  to  us  as  they  become  more  fa- 
miliar, the  united  influence  of  our  own 
prayers,  and  of  sympathy  with  those  around 
us,  and  of  all  the  associations  of  the  place,  ex- 
cites within  us  a  yearning  after  goodness,  and 
turns  us  from  the  love  of  sin.  We  go  away 
self-rebuked,  yet  encouraged  for  new  endeavor. 
We  have  found  consolation  under  sorrow, 
strength  to  resist  temptation,  and  perhaps  the 
hope  of  eternal  life.  Such  is  the  natural  and 
proper  influence  of  the  place  where  prayer  is 
wont  to  be  made.  We  shall  not  fail  to  expe- 
rience it,  if  we  are  truly  engaged  in  the  work 
of  self-improvement,  in  the  formation  of  the 
Christian  character.  We  do  not  speak  of 
church-going  as  a  meritorious  act,  in  itself 
Considered ;  but  as  a  judicious  act,  which, 
,vhen  done  with  a  right  motive,  is  almost  sure 
o  produce  a  good  result.  Its  neglect  leaves 
he  Sunday  unoccupied,  and  opens  the  way  to 
avany  temptations.  The  religious  instruction 
of  our  childhood  is  gradually  forgotten.  We 
become  more  worldly-minded  and  less  devout; 


RELIGION.  189 

the  associations  both  of  the  Sunday  and  of  the 
week-day  become  less  favorable  to  virtue,  and 
at  the  end  of  a  few  years  we  find  abundant 
reason  to  lament  that  we  ever  departed  from 
the  habits  of  our  early  days. 

If,  then,  it  is  wise  to  attend  regularly  at 
some  church,  upon  what  principles  shall  we 
make  the  selection  ?  We  answer,  go  where 
you  hear  the  Gospel  most  faithfully  preached, 
and  where  you  feel  the  influence  upon  your 
own  character  to  be  the  best.  Compare  the 
preaching  you  hear  with  the  Bible  you  read. 
"  Judge  for  yourselves  what  is  right,"  accord- 
ing to  this  standard,  and  you  are  not  likely  to 
go  far  wrong.  Among  all  the  different  creeds 
taught,  you  may  not  be  able  to  decide  which 
is  absolutely  correct,  and  there  are  many  points 
of  doctrine  concerning  which  you  may  always 
remain  in  doubt;  but  the  great  principles  of 
Christianity  are  plain  enough  to  all.  With 
regard  to  its  leading  doctrines,  also,  you  may 
without  much  difficulty  form  an  opinion.  But 
above  all,  and  what  is  most  important,  you 
will  have  no  difficulty  in  deciding  where  you 


190  RELIGION. 

are  most  benefited,  and  that  is  your  proper 
place  of  worship. 

Wherever  it  may  be,  may  the  God  of  peace 
go  with  you !  I  have  sought  to  do  my  own 
duty  towards  you  as  a  minister  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and,  if  I  have  spoken  too  plainly,  have  endeav- 
ored to  "  speak  the  truth  in  love."  I  end, 
therefore,  as  I  began,  —  "beseeching  you,  by 
the  mercies  of  God,  to  present  your  bodies  a 
LIVING  SACRIFICE,  holy,  acceptable  unto  God, 
which  is  your  reasonable  service." 


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